<<

THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT FOR INDIGENOUS CULTURE

CHANGE IN DIXIE VALLEY, NORTHEAST :

A PRELUDE TO COLLABORATIVE

______

A Thesis

Presented

to the Faculty of

California State University, Chico

______

In Partial Fulfillment

of the Requirements for the Degree

Master of Arts

in

Anthropology

______

by

Lowell W. Thomas, IV

Spring 2015 THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT FOR INDIGENOUS CULTURE

CHANGE IN DIXIE VALLEY, NORTHEAST CALIFORNIA:

A PRELUDE TO COLLABORATIVE ARCHAEOLOGY

A Thesis

by

Lowell W. Thomas, IV

Spring 2015

APPROVED BY THE DEAN OF GRADUATE STUDIES AND VICE PROVOST FOR RESEARCH:

______Eun K. Park, Ph.D.

APPROVED BY THE GRADUATE ADVISORY COMMITTEE:

______Guy Q. King, Ph.D. Antoinette Martinez, Ph.D., Chair Graduate Coordinator

______Frank Bayham, Ph.D. DEDICATION

This thesis is dedicated to my father, Lowell (Wes) Thomas III,

who instilled in me a deep appreciation for the , its

people, and its past. Your love, unending support, and impact

on my life and work is immeasurable.

Thank you. 

iii ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

First and foremost, I would like to thank all of my family. Amanda Pickren, my grandmother Marilyn Thomas, my parents Wes Thomas and Laurene Hamilton,

Vince Cunningham, and Celeste Thomas have each been especially supportive throughout this entire process. I extend my deepest gratitude to Ms. Anna Barnes and her family for inviting me into their home and sharing stories of Dixie Valley. My friends

Deanna Commons, Alden Neel, Wayne Wilson and Adrienne Scott have my appreciation for listening to my rants and offering their advice on countless occasions.

This research would not have been possible without the support and guidance of my committee and advisors: Dr. Martinez, Dr. Bayham and Dr. Fox. To Dr. Martinez, your influence as a scholar, a mentor, and as a friend has guided my academic and professional development beyond repayment.

I thank Dr. Eric Ritter, Lisa Westwood, Adam Gutierrez, Melanie Beasley and

Nicole (Ramirez) Thomas who helped me into and through the critical first steps of this journey. I also thank The Archaeological Conservancy for giving me the opportunity to research the Fast Preserve, as well as Greg Handa, Aimee VanHavermaat, Devin Snyder,

Jack Scott, Laura Cirillo, Gerry Gates, Jen Rovanpera, Colin Corr, Brooke Kaupanger,

Brandon Vlassoff, and Jason Ryoo for their help in the office and in the field.

Finally, I would like to acknowledge all those in the Pit River country who struggled to persevere in the face of great trauma over the past two centuries. Their story

iv lives on in the landscape, oral and written histories (including this thesis), and in the many descendants who carry forth their legacies today.

v TABLE OF CONTENTS

PAGE

Dedication...... iii

Acknowledgments ...... iv

List of Tables...... ix

List of Figures...... x

Abstract...... xi

CHAPTER

I. Introduction...... 1

Research Objectives ...... 2 Why Is This Research Important? ...... 6 A Prelude to Collaborative Archaeology ...... 8 Personal Context...... 9 Archival, Ethnographic and Ethnological Data Collection ...... 11 Oral Interview Process ...... 12 Limitations of this Study ...... 12 Thesis Organization and Chapter Content...... 13

II. Theoretical Orientation...... 16

Postprocessual Archaeology and Its Place in Americanist Archaeology...... 16 Critical , Critical Theory and the Use of Ethnographic Texts in ...... 17 Critical Theory and Ethnography...... 19 Coloniality of Power Theory...... 21 Collaborative Archaeology: The Relationship Between Archaeologists and Descendant Communities...... 23 Chapter Summary...... 25

vi CHAPTER PAGE

III. Review of Ethnographic Sources ...... 26

Ethnographic Context...... 26 A.L. Kroeber and the University of California, Berkeley ...... 27 Implications of U.C. Berkeley Ethnographic/Ethnologic Research...... 30 Ethnohistorical Literature Review...... 32 Primary Ethnographic Research on the Atsugewi...... 32 Primary Ethnographic and Ethnohistorical Reports Pertaining To the and Atsugewi ...... 44 Secondary Works Dealing With Atsugewi and Achomawi History...... 51 Miscellaneous Ethnohistoric Sources on the Atsugewi...... 53 Chapter Summary...... 54

IV. Ethnographic Overview...... 57

Traditional Atsugewi Life Ways ...... 58 Chapter Summary...... 73

V. Historical Overview for the Dixie Valley and Greater Pit River Region (1827-1887)...... 75

A Broader Context: Extermination and Removal in California (1848-1887) ...... 76 Contact, Extermination and Removal in the Pit River Region (1827-1887) ...... 78 Euroamerican Contact and Settlement in Dixie Valley and Vicinity (1848-1907)...... 83 Chapter Summary...... 88

VI. Effects of the Dawes Allotment Act in Dixie Valley, Northeast California ...... 89

The Allotment Era: 1887-1934...... 89 Reservation and Public Domain Trust Parcels ...... 91 Allotment Era in Dixie Valley, Northeastern California...... 93 Adapting to a Changed World: Acculturation and Living Conditions During the Allotment Era in Dixie Valley ...... 96 The Hasey Johnson Estate: Sus 229 (The Fast Preserve)...... 104 Fractionation and the Hasey Johnson Allotment...... 110 vii CHAPTER PAGE

The Andrew Johnson Estate: Sus 929 ...... 113 Discussion...... 114 Chapter Summary...... 118

VII. The Apwaruke and Dixie Valley Today...... 119

Ms. Anna Barnes and Dixie Valley...... 120 Apwaruke Access To and Use of Dixie Valley Today...... 122 Tribal Concerns with Resource Management ...... 124 Collaborative Archaeology and Future Research in the Dixie Valley Region...... 126 Compliance Archaeology, Academic Archaeology, and No-Disturbance Requests...... 127 A Call for Collaboration...... 130 Chapter Summary...... 132

VIII. Discussion and Conclusions...... 134

Dispossession: A Colonial Legacy...... 134 A Summary and Context for Early Research Among the Atsugewi ...... 137 Implications for Archaeology...... 139 Conclusion...... 151

References Cited...... 152

Appendices

A. Oral Interview Questions...... 165 B. General Land Office Records: Dixie Valley Region...... 167

viii

LIST OF TABLES

TABLE PAGE

1. Primary Ethnographic Works Pertaining to the Achomawi and/or Atsugewi (Emphasis on Atsugewi) by Year(s) of Research, and Affiliated Institutions(s) ...... 28

2. Apwaruke Residing in Dixie Valley After 1900 ...... 103

3. Vital Statistics for the Johnson Family, Dixie Valley...... 107

4. Land and Lease Transactions for Sus 229, the Hasey Johnson Allotment; 1907-2011 ...... 109

ix

LIST OF FIGURES

FIGURE PAGE

1. Location Map Featuring Dixie Valley and the Apwaruke Band Territory ...... 4

2. Pit River Tribal Map Showing Individual Band Territories...... 59

3. Map Showing All Dixie Valley Region Indian Allotments (Yellow) Granted Between 1907-1932 ...... 95

4. Acres of Dawes Indian Allotment Land in Dixie Valley by Year (1907-1957) ...... 103

5. 1900 Census for Dixie Valley Apwaruke (Including the Johnson Family) ...... 106

6. The Fractionation of Sus 229 (at Time of Sale in 1953) ...... 112

x ABSTRACT

THE HISTORICAL CONTEXT FOR INDIGENOUS CULTURE

CHANGE IN DIXIE VALLEY, NORTHEAST CALIFORNIA:

A PRELUDE TO COLLABORATIVE ARCHAEOLOGY

by

Lowell W. Thomas, IV

Master of Arts in Anthropology

California State University, Chico

Spring 2015

Using the Dixie Valley Apwaruke of Northeast California as a case study, this project utilizes previously neglected resources and research perspectives to create a comprehensive historical context for indigenous culture change. The importance of incorporating Native American concerns and theoretical concepts into archaeological practice is demonstrated through a combination of three perspectives: a critical review of the implications of ethnographic work, a comprehensive historical review of the region, and the inclusion of native voices through contemporary Apwaruke input. Exploration of the historical context in which indigenous throughout Northeast California responded to the effects of Euroamerican colonization, with particular focus on the

Dawes Allotment era, establishes a baseline for understanding social and political agents of indigenous culture change during those periods. By utilizing the collaborative

xi archaeological approach in tandem with an informed historical context, this research offers a more inclusive and self-aware archaeological practice that is relevant to all stakeholders.

xii

CHAPTER I

INTRODUCTION

For centuries, Western colonizers struggled to incorporate of the Americas into an expanding European world system. Extermination, relocation, and eventually policies of assimilation came to reflect those processes most effectively employed by the dominant society to manage the “Indian Problem” (McDonnell

1991:25). Come 1887, the Congress signed into law the Dawes Allotment

Act, providing American Indians the opportunity to legally own land, to adopt a Western agricultural lifestyle in place of traditional cultural practices, and to attain American citizenship upon successful assimilation.

Discriminatory by design and devastating in its implementation, Native peoples struggled to maintain traditional cultural practices and lost a vast majority of their land base as a result of the Act. Nationally, fewer than 5,000 Native Americans were landless at the time the Dawes Act was signed into law, with over 137,000,000 acres of land owned by Native individuals or groups. By the early 1930s, 100,000 Native

Americans were landless. Today, an estimated 47,000,000 acres of land remain in Native ownership (Thomas 2000:190).

During the same time Western colonizers dealt with Native populations politically and socially, social scientists worked to describe and define them. As early as

1787, Thomas Jefferson employed archaeological methods to study America’s earliest

1 2 inhabitants. Driven by fervent nationalism, he worked to construct and defend an image of the Native American against the likes of French naturalist Georges de Buffon, who like others of the day, perceived the American Indian as having degraded “deeper than any animal” of the natural world (Thomas 2000:30-34). Over the ensuing century, scientists continued to grapple with how best the American Indian fit into the scheme of human, much less American history (Conn 2004:13, 21).

By the turn of the 20th century, Anthropology had subsumed the study of

Native Americans, with archaeology and ethnography given priority in defining their rapidly vanishing traditional lifeways (Conn 2004:10, 175, 199). Hence, the anthropologist (and particularly the archaeologist) became the authority on Native

American history and prehistory; a position that continues to foster resentment from contemporary Native American groups with unequal access to such power to this day.

Research Objectives

This study moves beyond the “ethnographic boilerplate” by considering the full spectrum of colonial and post-colonial agents of indigenous culture change at a national (United States), state (California), and local (Pit River/Dixie Valley region) level. By appreciating the historical context in which those changes occurred, archaeological research questions become more relevant and specific to the region for which they apply; research biases, silences and erasures ingrained in the academic works of early researchers become visible; and finally, the history and relationship between

Native Americans and Euroamerican society, and how that relationship effects

3 archaeological interpretation and Native American identity (past and present), is brought to the forefront of archaeological practice.

This study offers a historical context for indigenous culture change specific to, but far from exclusive to, the Dixie Valley Apwaruke of Northeast California. In revealing the history of the silencing and discrimination Native peoples have experienced, both legally and in academic research, I argue archaeologists acquire an ethical responsibility to prevent perpetuating such problems by reaching out to descendant communities for input and participation (as opposed to consultation) in research and preservation processes. Beyond ethical considerations, collaborative archaeology can also benefit scientific interpretations by adding depth and perspective that only multivocal, humanist undertakings can produce.

Dixie Valley: A Case Study

Prior to Euroamerican contact in the Pit River region of Northeastern

California (see Figure 1), Dixie Valley served as a primary settlement for the Apwaruke band of the Atsugewi (Pit River) . By the 1870s, hundreds of Atsugewi peoples had died from foreign diseases, starvation, and conflict with the colonizing .

Survivors were forced to modify or abandon traditional cultural practices as entire landscapes within their homeland were adapted for agricultural pursuits. In the Dixie

Valley region alone, all 47 Indian land allotments (6,339.7 acres) granted between 1907 and 1932 were sold or forfeited by 1957.

Using Dixie Valley as a case study, this thesis explores the historical context in which the Apwaruke first encountered western settlers through to the mid-1900s when

4

Figure 1. Location Map featuring Dixie Valley and the Apwaruke band territory.

Source: Adapted from Garth, Thomas R., 1978, Atsugewi. In California, edited by Robert F. Heizer, pp. 236–243. Handbook of North American Indians, William C. Sturtevant, general editor, vol. 8. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

Dixie Valley was no longer legally owned in any part by Apwaruke peoples. Three primary perspectives are taken to address the following research questions.

First, I offer a critical review of primary ethnographic materials that have provided the foundational descriptions for pre-Contact and historic-era

Atsugewi/Apwaruke culture. This review is considered necessary for establishing a critically informed historical background. A brief discussion on each of the primary

Atsugewi ethnographers is used to identify when, why, and for how long each researcher worked with the group. The review is perhaps most valuable as it reveals the narrow focus of those ethnographers (largely associated with University of California Berkeley’s

“salvage” ethnography program) while largely ignoring the conditions under which their

5 subjects were currently living. The review also serves as a reminder that early California have had implications beyond merely providing narratives of past Native life ways; they have influenced how academia, the public, and the American legal system perceive and define Native identity.

Second, I use ethnographic, historical, and archival literatures to explore the early contact and historical periods in the Pit River region, with special attention given to the effects the Dawes Allotment Act had on the Dixie Valley Apwaruke. In her brief history of the historic Dixie Valley Ranch, author Glorianne Weigand (1996:117, 118) introduces the valley as “Once a large Indian reservation…” later noting that “He (James

Snell, superintendent for the Dixie Valley Ranch) purchased acres of government land and many Indian allotments” and noting “Some of the Indians kept their land and stayed at Dixie while others moved to a new location.” Struck by Weigand’s incidental reference to the historic-era Apwaruke presence in the valley, my research asks “How and why did

Dixie Valley transform from 6,339 acres to zero acres of Indian allotment lands in only half of a century?” That is, how did Dixie Valley ranch owners and federal landholders come to “legally” attain all of the Dixie Valley landscape by the early 1960s? This perspective identifies social and political injustices introduced by Western colonizers that effectively dismantled the traditional Apwaruke culture and land base by the end of the historic era.

Lastly, I argue the importance of including Native perspectives through collaboration in archaeological work in the region today. I draw from discussions I had with Dixie Valley Apwaruke member, Ms. Anna Barnes, to identify cultural resource management concerns and wishes that her band currently holds. By asking “why do we

6

(archaeologists) do what we do, and for whom?” I argue that archaeologists, as cultural heritage resource managers and as producers of history (Trouillot 1995), must acknowledge their responsibility to those groups, particularly descendant communities who are stakeholders in the resources archaeologists work to preserve and interpret. This study holds that the inclusion of Native perspectives is especially warranted when conducting research in regions like Dixie Valley where Native communities have been displaced and silenced but continue to maintain vital cultural and personal connections to the landscape. A collaborative archaeological approach better informs historical and archaeological interpretations of the past by allowing Native concerns and perspectives to be heard, and by allowing descendant groups to have voice in archaeological interpretations that potentially affect their legal identities and control over heritage resources.

This research was undertaken with the realization that a full understanding of the Dixie Valley region can only be achieved by considering the complexity of social and cultural changes that have occurred there throughout time. As a model, this type of research is not exclusively applicable to the Dixie Valley region; the story of indigenous culture change in Dixie Valley is but a microcosm of the experiences had by indigenous groups across America, and even internationally, as a result of European colonialism.

Why Is This Research Important?

Archaeologists are employed, funded, and otherwise held to ethical principles that obligate them to produce responsible research. The Society for American

Archaeology (2012:Principle Ethic No. 2) states:

7

Responsible archaeological research, including all levels of professional activity, requires an acknowledgment of public accountability and a commitment to make every reasonable effort, in good faith, to consult actively with affected group(s), with the goal of establishing a working relationship that can be beneficial to all parties involved.

More than consultation, this thesis supports the work of contemporary scholars (Sheehan and Lilley 2008:106) who argue true collaboration, whereby indigenous theoretical concepts are incorporated into archaeological practice, is the only way the discipline can move beyond colonially-rooted conflicts of value.

A combination of in-depth historical background research, discussions with

Apwaruke member Ms. Anna Barnes, and archaeological survey findings (Thomas

2015), has illuminated several archaeological research questions specific to Dixie Valley

(Chapter VIII). As per input provided by Ms. Barnes, it also became clear that contemporary Apwaruke are deeply concerned about the welfare of their homeland and the relics their ancestors left behind. With the support, guidance, and participation of tribal members, and with better informed archaeologists and research goals, future research possibilities and heritage resource preservation efforts in the region promise to be more beneficial to all parties.

Lastly, this research accounts for biases and omissions commonly overlooked by practitioners when conducting research and producing historical narratives for the people and pasts they study. Thomas (2000:257) asserts that issues persisting between

Native peoples and archaeologists today are political, whereby both groups struggle for control of American Indian history. In becoming aware of the issues that have long divided Native American and scientific communities, steps can be taken to discontinue

8 those legacies, moving toward a more informed, ethical, and relevant archaeological practice.

A Prelude to Collaborative Archaeology

While the relationship between Native Americans and archaeologists was not born of a legal mandate for consultation, federal law of recent decades has played a large part in assuring Native concerns are considered in the research archaeologists conduct.

As a result of the American Indian Religious Freedom Act (AIRFA) 1978, the

Archaeological Resources Protection Act of 1979 (ARPA), the Native American Graves

Protection and Repatriation Act (NAGPRA) of 1990, and various amendments to the

National Historic Preservation Act (NHPA), compliance archaeologists (those working to manage heritage resources related to public lands, or requiring federal or state permit) are guided by what some consider to be “legislated ethics” (Watkins 2000:36, 48).

Legislated ethics mandate archaeologists to consult with Native American groups holding cultural affinity to a project area or resource during the planning stages of a research project (Watkins 2000:48). Prior to these enactments, early historical preservation efforts were based primarily on what Joe Watkins (2000:7) has called

“upper-class values applied to Euroamerican concepts of history practiced by naturalist focused groups.” Today, archaeologists are increasingly embracing pluralism and humanist views in their practice by welcoming traditional knowledge into their interpretations (Thomas 2000:244, 245).

Previous studies conducted in that advocate the value of collaborative archaeology have benefited greatly from the inclusion of Native

9 perspectives. For example, Button’s (2009) research on the Sutter Buttes in the Northern

Sacramento Valley and Westphal’s (2012) study of Ahjumawi footpaths in the Fall River

Valley each gained insight into cultural landscapes through collaboration that was otherwise invisible archaeologically. By including contemporary Native values in their research it was revealed that the “archaeological” resources they studied were not strictly of value to past Native peoples, but were living resources which continue to play a vital role in contemporary Native American culture. Both research efforts bore more complete interpretations of the past with relevance beyond the sphere of archaeological interests.

Personal Context

In spring of 2012, I was informed of a research opportunity involving the archaeological survey of a 160-acre land parcel located in Dixie Valley, Northeast

California. The land parcel, referred to hereafter as the Fast Preserve, had been acquired in 2012 by The Archaeological Conservancy (TAC), a nonprofit organization dedicated to identifying, acquiring and preserving archaeological sites throughout the United States.

Prior to the TAC’s formal acquisition of the 160 parcel, a partial and preliminary reconnaissance survey conducted by Archaeological Conservancy representatives was performed on the east-central portion of the property for the purpose of assessing its potential archaeological resource and research value (White 2011). The sample survey resulted in the identification of two sites and a light density lithic scatter.

Further field evaluation was not performed during that initial visit, but it was suggested a more thorough survey be conducted as it was expected the Preserve would contain

10 additional resources. Intrigued by those preliminary findings and further by an interest in the project area I agreed to conduct a complete survey of the Fast Preserve.

By 2014, I had (with the help of several generous volunteers) completed survey and the recording of ten archaeological sites on and around the Fast Preserve.

Nine sites are related to indigenous habitation of the area up to the turn of 20th Century, and spanning perhaps several millennia into the past. One historic-era road and several historic-era artifacts and land modifications related to stock grazing were also identified and recorded. The results of that preliminary survey are summarized elsewhere (Thomas

2015), and were originally intended to be the focus of my graduate work. Unexpectedly

(yet eagerly) my interests soon turned to the rich historical context in which the Fast

Preserve and broader Dixie Valley exist.

The desire to perform an informed and holistic background research of the project area led me to an odyssey of introspection and depth of understanding when situating the Dixie Valley in historic, ethnographic and archaeological context.

Unacknowledged by previous researchers, I discovered that the land I was to survey had once been a 160 acre Indian land allotment (Sus 229) owned by Hasey Johnson, a Dixie

Valley Apwaruke member. Further investigations revealed Sus 229 was one of but 47

Indian allotments that once occupied the Dixie Valley region, none of which are owned by Apwaruke peoples today. These findings sparked my interests and curiosity as to what happened between the time the archaeology of the Preserve was created and the time I arrived on the parcel to begin archaeological survey. The story I revealed is one that I argue needs to be told before the region’s past can be understood.

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Archival, Ethnographic and Ethnological Data Collection

Standard historical archival research was employed in the gathering of rare, special and often obscure items containing information relevant to the history of Dixie

Valley and the broader Pit River region. Published ethnographic works, photographs, and maps were accessed by way of the Special Collections Department of California State

University Chico’s Merriam Library. Additional published sources not housed by the

University were attained using the interlibrary loans option offered by the institution.

Primary archival documents, land records, and maps pertaining to the allotment-era and historic landownership of Lassen County, California were accessed at the National

Archives and Records Administration (NARA) center located in San Bruno, California.

The Bancroft Library located at the University of California, Berkeley was visited several times to access unpublished student files, letters and research notes, and rare and unpublished ethnographic works by Berkeley ethnographers who worked with the

Atsugewi during the early part of the 20th Century. Census data was accessed online by way of NARA microfilms through FamilySearch.org, and public land records were accessed using the Bureau of Land Management’s online General Land Office database.

Several rare and local historical publications were obtained through the Fort Crook

Museum in Fall River Mills, California and at the Lassen Historical Society in

Susanville, California. Lastly, I was granted access to sensitive documents, archaeological reports, site records and unpublished reports held at the Bureau of Land

Management, Alturas Field Office and Headquarters in Alturas,

California.

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Oral Interview Process

In January of 2014, I contacted the Pit River Tribal Office located in Burney,

California, inquiring about Apwaruke tribal representatives that might be available for comment or interview concerning Dixie Valley. It was suggested that I contact Ms. Anna

Barnes. On January 13, 2014, I sent a letter to Ms. Barnes asking for her input on the survey and research of the Fast Preserve. After receiving no feedback for several months

I made contact with her in person during a tribal meeting with the Alturas Bureau of Land

Management. At the meeting, Ms. Barnes graciously offered to meet with me at her home to discuss Dixie Valley. Over the following months, Ms. Barnes and I spoke in person and on the phone several times, developing a personal relationship through which I was able to relay to her what my research and personal intentions concerning Dixie Valley involved.

I approached the Oral Interview process with the intention of asking a scripted set of pre-approved questions (Appendix A), and recording responses on paper and using an audio recording device. However, an initial effort to do this style of “question and answer” interview immediately felt awkward and uncomfortable, and clearly was not going to be a productive approach. Instead, I found that Ms. Barnes and I best communicated when speaking freely and unscripted, letting information come as it might, but never forcing information from her.

Limitations of this Study

Ultimately, this project would benefit from a more thorough survey of current tribal members, especially those Pit River, , Yana, or Northern Paiute that don’t

13 specifically identify themselves as Apwaruke, as these many groups have, or have had, connections to the Dixie Valley landscape and its peoples. Nonetheless, I feel that contact with Ms. Barnes has provided a critical perspective to this research; one that should be expanded on in future research and one that should be acknowledged in all future private and public projects in the Dixie Valley region.

Thesis Organization and Chapter Content

In Chapter II, I outline the theoretical perspectives employed in this research.

From the tenets of postprocessual archaeology, these include critical theory, coloniality of power theory, and the conceptual basis for the collaborative archaeology approach.

Chapter III entails a detailed review of ethnographic sources pertaining to the

Atsugewi. This includes a discussion of A. L. Kroeber and his anthropology program at the University of California, Berkeley in the early half of the 20th century, which was responsible for the production of a majority of ethnographic studies conducted on the

Atsugewi and throughout California. This chapter also alludes to additional

Ethnohistorical and archival works relevant to Atsugewi (and Achomawi) history.

Chapter IV consists of an ethnographic overview, synthesizing what I have deemed the most reliably attained and supported data from those works reviewed in chapter three. This overview provides a context for traditional cultural practices as they existed in the ethnographic period, and provides a baseline from which culture change can be assessed through time.

Chapter V provides a historical overview for the Dixie Valley and Greater Pit

River region from roughly 1827-1887. Multiple ethnographic, archival, historical, and

14 miscellaneous sources are consulted in constructing an in-depth context for the contact and early colonization eras in the Pit River region.

After surviving campaigns of extermination and removal, Pit River peoples were afforded the opportunity to own land by way of the Dawes Allotment Act of 1887.

Chapter six discusses how the Apwaruke and countless other indigenous groups throughout the were affected by the devastating impacts of the Act.

In Chapter VII, I introduce readers to Ms. Anna Barnes, an Apwaruke tribal representative and one of the last Apwaruke to have actually lived in Dixie Valley. I relay issues and concerns Ms. Barnes and her band have regarding archaeological practice and heritage resource management in the Dixie Valley region. I offer suggestions for how one might proceed to nurture a collaborative relationship with Native American groups

(specifically the Apwaruke), and acknowledge that many tribal groups, such as the Pit

River are at times reluctant to participate or even find relevance in archaeological and anthropological practice due to a long history of disenfranchisement by the European world system and its products (archaeology and modern science included). As a whole, this chapter argues the importance of establishing a collaborative relationship between archaeologists and the Native American groups their work affects.

Chapter VIII consists of a discussion on conclusions resulting from my research. This involves a summary of the allotment era and its tragic impact on Native

American groups, followed by a summary and context for the early research conducted among the Atsugewi by ethnographers. Section three of this chapter discusses implications this type of research has for archaeological practice. Included are suggestions for how to appropriately use the ethnographic record, followed by an

15 example of how I have applied it to archaeological interpretations resulting from survey work I undertook on the Fast Preserve in Dixie Valley. Lastly, I offer several archaeological research questions for future projects (pending tribal consent and participation) specific to the Dixie Valley region, but that are applicable to similar contexts throughout the nation.

CHAPTER II

THEORETICAL ORIENTATION

Honoring the value of multidisciplinary, multi-vocal, and self-critical treatments of the archaeological and historical record, several postprocessually rooted approaches have been employed during this research process. These include: critical theory, coloniality of power theory, and the collaborative archaeology approach.

Interdisciplinary in nature, these concepts have primarily been developed within the arts and are proving a valuable tool as archaeologists continue to incorporate multivocality into their research (Trigger 2006:515). This chapter outlines the various theoretical orientations employed throughout this thesis beginning with a brief summary of the postprocessual archaeological approach and its applications in this thesis.

Postprocessual Archaeology and Its Place in Americanist Archaeology

Influenced by the postmodern movement in the arts, and by the lead of British archaeologist Ian Hodder, mounting arguments throughout the 1960s and 1970s with processual archaeology’s ability to deduce objective knowledge from archaeological data had by the 1980s resulted in a new approach to viewing culture and change:

Postprocessualism (Shackel and Little 1992:5; Trigger 2006:450). The Americanist postprocessual movement is grounded in critical theory (Leone et al. 1987:283), gender

(Conkey and Spector 1984:2), cognitive, symbolic, structural, and class studies (Leone

16 17

1986:415; 1982:742). Largely confined to academia (Shanks 2008:134), post- processualism has, since its inception represented a shift in focus from function to meaning when interpreting the archaeological record (Lucas 2012:148). As societies are comprised of individuals, classes, and groups in constant interaction, culture change is viewed as a product of both internal social tension and external pressures, often contradictory to the good of the society as a whole (Thomas and Kelly 2006:64).

As an alternative to processualism and its quest for empirical, objective, and testable knowledge, postprocessual archaeologists claim there can be no universal laws since adaptations occur differently according to the dynamics of particular cultures

(Thomas and Kelly 2006:64). Therefore, ideational perspectives focused on individual agency are preferred over adaptive perspectives (Shanks 2008:135). More extreme applications of postprocessual critique consider the archaeologist’s view of the past as socially constructed (Willey and Sabloff 1993:298). That is, “archaeologists don’t so much discover the past as much as they produce accounts of it” (Shanks 2008:137).

Critical Ethnography, Critical Theory and the Use of Ethnographic Texts in Anthropology

Born out of postmodern theory, interpretive, or textualist critiques by Geertz

(1973), and later by Clifford and Marcus (1986), challenged the validity of traditional ethnographic accounts aligned with the positivist school of ethnography. Such critics argued that an ethnographic text reflects the theoretical and practical orientation, as well as personal experience and literary rhetoric of its author (Layton 1997:208; Moore

2004:268). Objective narratives were seen as impossible to produce since both the informant’s realization of his or her own experience, and the ethnographer’s

18 interpretation of that experience can only be a textual representation of those experiences, given relative meaning through narrative (Geertz 1973:9; Aunger 2004:10). Geertz

(1973:15) argued anthropological writings are inherently fictitious interpretations of social phenomena and that the best one can do is to provide a full (or thick) description of all behaviors and context in conjunction with a diagnosis of what the anthropologist regards as truth (1973:25-27).

This type of critique encouraged anthropologists to consider the cultural texts that they not only interpret, but create (Moore 2004:268). Demands for self-awareness were inspired by and contributed to, the intellectual trend of the postmodern movement in the arts. Postmodernism forced anthropologists to reevaluate their approaches, theoretical orientations, goals, and the overall validity and usefulness of their discipline. Elements of traditional ethnography began to seem obsolete as the theoretical foundations upon which methods were constructed appeared vulnerable and weak. On the contrary, some scholars found the postmodern movement guilty of theoretical and rhetorical overkill and largely alienated to the interests of suburbanized intellectuals (Borneman and Hammoudi 2009:4;

Bourgois 1995:14).

As a product of textualist critique, (as termed by Brown and Dobrin 2004:2) is also theoretically informed by postmodernism. It acknowledges the weaknesses inherent in traditional ethnographic practices and has restructured its praxis.

Critical ethnography is dialectical, reflexive, accedes to relativity, and accepts that objectivity is unattainable (Brown and Dobrin 2004:2). A key feature of critical ethnography has been the restructuring of the ethnographic “self” and its relationship to the “other.” In recognizing power imbalances, subjectivity, and theoretical and

19 methodological shortcomings inherent in positivist ethnography, the critical ethnographer approaches knowledge as multivocal, collaborative, and dialogical (Brown and Dobrin

2004:304).

Whereas positivist models deplore subjectivity in ethnography, Cerwonka and

Malkki explain that humanistic research models benefit from introspect and personal experience, especially in making ethical decisions (2007:31, 36). By embracing subjectivity, one enriches critical reason as a mode of analysis (2007:36). Thus, the critical ethnographer becomes more than a translator of culture. One is instead given the responsibility of revealing oppressive conditions and un-silencing voices that have otherwise gone ignored by the traditional ethnographer (Herzfeld 2001:23).

As a counterpart to cultural (or social) anthropology’s use of critical ethnography, archaeologists working in the postprocessual school utilize critical theory.

Critical theory has been used by archaeologists to deconstruct explanations, revealing unintended biases resulting from the standpoints of their creators (Trigger 2006:460). As a foundational tenet of both postmodern anthropological and postprocessual archaeological paradigms, critical theory has created a disciplinary self-awareness, revealing a more relativist epistemological grounding (Thomas 2000:242; Trigger

2006:462).

Critical Theory and Atsugewi Ethnography

The relevance of critical theory in this thesis comes from an evaluation of the ethnographic work undertaken by anthropologists (mostly associated with U.C. Berkeley) with the Atsugewi in the early part of the 20th Century. As discussed by Buckley (1996)

20 and Scheper-Hughes (2004:62) (also see chapter three of this thesis) Alfred Kroeber, his students and his colleagues at U.C. Berkeley were more interested in documenting the rapidly disappearing cultures of California Natives (the pursuit of “authentic” aboriginal life ways) than they were in documenting the social injustices responsible for the cultural devastation they witnessed.

It is unknown whether or not Kroeber’s reluctance to treat the subject of contemporary Native American problems was, as he claimed, outside his scope of study to adequately treat (cited by Scheper-Hughes 2004:63 and Buckley 1996:274) or, as

Scheper-Hughes (2004:62) ponders, might have been a conscious measure of avoidance borne out of his own uneasiness with the emotionally taxing subject. In any case, the outcome of his research and the output from his department during its early years is largely ahistorical and fails to acknowledge those topics.

Subsequently, those works produced by Berkeley ethnographers have served as foundational pieces for understanding and defining pre-contact aboriginal life ways.

Those ethnographies are not necessarily false, but rather incomplete. At times serving as the most reliable, if not sole literature available relating to a given tribal group, U.C.

Berkeley ethnographic works have been used to define “Native identity” in the eyes of the legal system and a significant proportion of academics, professionals, and publics - including descendant communities. In an attempt to compensate for some of these deficiencies identified in early Atsugewi ethnographic works I have included archival and other historical data that provide context for historic era culture change otherwise lacking in academic works of the period.

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Coloniality of Power Theory

“The conquered and dominated peoples were situated in a natural position of inferiority and, as a result, their phenotypic traits as well as their cultural features were considered inferior. In this way, race became the fundamental criterion for the distribution of the world population into ranks, places, and roles in the new society’s structure of power” (Anibal Quijano [2000:535] in her essay: Coloniality of Power,

Eurocentrism, and Latin America).

Within the purview of postprocessual archaeology are interdisciplinary studies of colonialism and post colonialism, both central in understanding contact and acculturation processes in the Americas. I have drawn influence from the conceptual premise of Coloniality of Power theory, a product of postcolonial studies, for use in my discussion of the effects of the Dawes Allotment Act in Dixie Valley (Chapter VI).

My application of this theory is inspired by Rose B. Middleton’s (2008) dissertation work with the Mountain Maidu (southern neighbors to the Dixie Valley

Apwaruke). Middleton reveals how American Indians as a “race” were subjected to colonially-imposed social and political positions of disenfranchisement for the benefit of the colonizing population, whereby the United States used oppression and to dispossess Native Americans of their land during the Allotment era. By using coloniality of power theory Middleton identifies colonial legacies that are still effecting the

Mountain Maidu to this day, including case studies demonstrating how Maidu activism has been employed to access, protect, and steward cultural and natural resources of their homeland (Middleton:2008).

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Engaging theories of Marxist political economy, dependency theory, and world-systems theory, coloniality of power theorists recognize postcolonial western capitalist countries of today as being founded upon the exploitation and oppression of dominated peoples. This is well demonstrated in Quijano’s (2000) discussions of

European colonialism over peoples of Latin America, Native America and the diaspora, and W.E. Dubois’ (1994[1903]) discussions of race and struggle in the post-Civil War era

United States.

During the European colonization of the Americas, Eurocentric perspectives of knowledge were held superior over those of the dominated (colonized) non-European world. Using race as a distinguishing trait western capitalist regimes were enforced upon non-European peoples who at once became laborers forced into earning their livelihoods under the dominant “race,” and hence, the owners of the means of production (Middleton

2008:5, 8).

Middleton (2008:9) states that “by simultaneously institutionalizing the double myth of their own racial superiority and the inferiority of the Native people around the globe, the colonizers could claim Native lands and organize systems of exploitative labor that enabled the development and rise of international capitalism on an unprecedented scale.”

The allotment of Dixie Valley and subsequent fate of its Apwaruke residents who became ranch laborers, then landless, jobless and forced to relocate, stands among other, better-known examples of Northern California Native groups who underwent colonially-induced disenfranchisement, suffering significant losses of land, life, resources and traditional culture (see William J. Bauer Jr.’s [2009] research on the Round Valley

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Indian Reservation in Covelo, California, or Middleton’s [2008] dissertation work with the Mountain Maidu).

Collaborative Archaeology: The Relationship Between Archaeologists and Descendant Communities

As discussed, my research identifies a story of a people who were socially, culturally, and politically disenfranchised since first contact by the colonizing population.

Even academically, anthropologists, ethnographers and archaeologists have long treated

Pit River culture as a resource that is to be studied and from which information is to be

“salvaged,” resulting in one-sided colonial narratives as opposed to true depictions of the indigenous past. A collaborative archaeological approach recognizes that the discipline and profession of archaeology is, as Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson (2008:3) state:

“inseparably entwined with the past policies and programs of colonialism, the appropriation and exploitation of one people’s resources to enrich another more powerful people” and that it affects multiple interest groups; especially descendant communities.

Hence, collaborative archaeology seeks to include multiple voices in research design and interpretation. The result is a more ethical and well-informed archaeology that is more relevant to all interest groups involved.

By emphasizing a collaborative archaeological approach focus is placed on the people (past and present) who are stakeholders in the pasts archaeologists interpret.

As stewards and ambassadors of cultural heritage archaeologists have an ethical responsibility to produce inclusive interpretations of the past that are not narrowly produced by and for a specific audience but have meaning and contemporary relevance to

24 the non-archaeological communities that are affected by the research. More than providing meaning and relevance to Native communities, this approach also acknowledges that an archaeologist’s determination of a site’s relationship (or lack thereof) to a tribal group can have resounding effects on who legally has control and

“say” in matters of heritage resource management (Adler and Bruning 2008:51).

This approach does not intend to claim that American archaeology is in and of itself relevant to all Native communities. On the contrary, many groups find archaeological interpretations of their ancestral cultures to be irrelevant and inaccurate

(Anyon et al. 1997:86). However, the legal and political implications that archaeological interpretations can yield will always remain relevant, as they directly affect those communities, their “legal” identities and rights to control heritage resources.

There is no guarantee that a collaborative approach will be embraced by all, or even a majority of practitioners in the future. Despite the great benefits both morally and intellectually that can come of the approach, it is not a “quick-fix” solution to any one problem. Collaborative relationships can take time to germinate, whereby trust and understanding between interest groups has to be gained before truly successful collaboration can result (Nicholas, Welch, and Yellowhorn 2008:273). This thesis contributes to the start of a collaborative relationship between archaeologists and the

Apwaruke of Dixie Valley; one that will in time prove beneficial for tribal, federal, and academic stakeholders if nurtured.

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Chapter Summary

By employing a postprocessual barrage of conceptual tools this thesis seeks to produce an inclusive, multivocal, and socially and politically conscious historical context for indigenous culture change in historic-era Dixie Valley. Critical theory is used to identify biases and power imbalances inherent in the ethnographic works archaeologists create and utilize. Coloniality of Power theory is used to identify ways that colonial legacies have historically affected and continue to affect Native peoples politically, socially, and economically, and how archaeology as a discipline is itself a product of that legacy. Lastly, a collaborative archaeological approach is offered as a means toward adopting theoretical and methodological practices that account for those silences long perpetuated by archaeologists.

CHAPTER III

REVIEW OF ETHNOGRAPHIC SOURCES

Ethnographic Context

The Apwaruke, and more broadly the Atsugewi, received little attention from trained scholars until the start of the 20th Century, more than 70 years after the Pit River region was first contacted by Euroamerican fur traders (Garth 1978:243). The Dixie

Valley Apwaruke had by this time lived aside Euroamerican settlers since at least 1869

(Fairfield 1916:467), were subjected to extermination and removal policies of the 1850s-

1870s, and had been displaced within their homeland as a result of the federally implemented Homestead (1862) and Dawes Allotment (1887) Acts. As with all ethnographic and historical sources, inexorable biases, misconceptions, inaccuracies, and general shortcomings exist within these works.

To understand the depth and dynamic of early interactions between

Euroamerican and Pit River peoples, cultural and ideological differences must be acknowledged. This includes an assessment of those pledged with studying such interaction: the ethnographer. This chapter begins with a discussion of the research conducted on the Atsugewi by trained ethnographers (namely, A.L. Kroeber’s U.C.,

Berkeley Anthropology Program). A discussion of U.C. Berkeley’s Anthropology

Program is used to establish the context in which Dixie Valley and much of California’s native population was surveyed in the early part of the 20th Century. The author of each

26 27 key ethnographic source is then provided a brief context, including their purpose for research and institutional affiliation. Such considerations are useful in identifying theoretical paradigms used by the ethnographers, as well potential biases, strengths and weaknesses in their methods. This is especially important considering those data are largely responsible for how a tribe’s identity would (or would not) be recognized by academics, the public, and by the United States government in years to follow.

To close the chapter is a review of key Ethnohistorical data pertaining to the

Atsugewi and Dixie Valley Apwaruke, including reports, historical syntheses, and regional histories that contain useful data for understanding the history of the Atsugewi since initial contact. These additional sources serve as valuable perspectives on the context in which Atsugewi cultural changes were occurring that are generally lacking in academic ethnographies (such as the social, economic and political conditions that the given tribes were currently experiencing).

A.L. Kroeber and the University of California, Berkeley

A total of nine trained ethnographers, each having worked specifically with the Atsugewi, are reviewed herein. These studies occurred from 1900 throughout the

1930s, vary in scope, purpose and depth and often build upon the data of earlier works. It is noteworthy that eight of the nine ethnographers that conducted research among the

Atsugewi have direct affiliation with the University of California, Berkeley anthropology program as either faculty or students-in-training under the direction of Dr. Alfred L.

Kroeber (see Table 1). Owing the magnitude of research stemming from the university, a

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Table 1. Primary ethnographic works pertaining to the Achomawi and/or Atsugewi (emphasis on Atsugewi) by year(s) of research, and affiliated institutions(s).

Ethnographer Year(s) of Position, Affiliated Institution Year of Fieldwork with Publication(s) the Atsugewi A. L. Kroeber 1900 Professor of anthropology, Director of the 1958 Museum of Anthropology; University of California, Berkeley. R. H. Dixon 1900, 1903 Assistant professor of anthropology, 1908, 1908 ; colleague of and collaborator with A.L. Kroeber. C. H. Merriam 1907-1926 Naturalist, zoologist, ethnologist; research 1926 funded by the Smithsonian Institution. E. W. Gifford 1922 Assistant Curator, University of California, 1922; Berkeley Museum of Anthropology. Unpublished field notes. E. A. Golomshtok 1922 Graduate Student, anthropology; University 1923; of California, Berkeley. Unpublished thesis. F. B. Kniffen 1926 Doctoral student, cultural geography; 1942 University of California, Berkeley. S. Park 1931-1933 Graduate Student, anthropology; University 1986 of California, Berkeley. E. W. Voegelin 1936 Graduate Student, anthropology; University 1946, 1972 of California, Berkeley (1923); Yale University (1939). T. R. Garth 1938, 1939 Graduate Student, anthropology; University 1944, 1945, of California Berkeley 1953, 1978 Note: “Year of Publication(s)” refers only to works by those authors relating to Achomawi and Atsugewi groups. See Ethnographic Literature Review for additional details.

brief discussion of A.L. Kroeber and the University of California, Berkeley anthropology program is warranted.

Alfred L. Kroeber received his doctoral degree from the University of

Columbia in 1901 under the guidance of , a key figure in and founder of

American anthropology. That same year Kroeber and colleague P.E. Goddard were appointed teaching positions at the University of California, Berkeley. Their tenures were initially oriented toward documenting California native groups, for which little was known of language and culture at the time. These efforts were realized in a series of monographs published through the University of California Publications in American

29

Archaeology and , an early accomplishment of the young professors (Steward

1962:198, 199).

The success of Kroeber and Goddard’s research program quickly gained esteem, constituting the Berkeley program as the preeminent institution for California aboriginal studies. Whereas his mentor, Franz Boas, stressed the value of extensively studying a single culture group, Kroeber attempted to study as many of California’s tribal groups as possible in an effort described as . Salvage ethnography, as the name suggests, was employed to survey what remained of the quickly vanishing traditional aboriginal California groups and their life ways. Program efforts resulted in the gathering of massive quantities of information by U.C. Berkeley students, faculty and affiliates. U.C. Berkeley ethnological monographs would have wide-ranging effects on how California tribes were defined and perceived by the legal, academic, and general populace.

Ethnological data acquired by trained ethnographers was typically collected through field visits whereby native informants were interviewed about traditional, or pre- contact, aboriginal culture. In addition to the challenges immanent in all ethnographic research (e.g., participant observer bias, informant quality and reliability), Berkeley’s salvage ethnography program was faced with the task of extracting traditional knowledge as best approximated prior to Western colonial influence. The integrity of such data was dependent upon the quality and accuracy of informant knowledge collected decades, if not entire generations removed from the time traditional life ways had last been practiced in full. Informant knowledge was subject to an array of culture contact issues, including: world economy and the intensification of regional exchange, change and innovation in

30 material culture, lethal epidemics and demographic collapse, changing natural landscapes, social disruption and reformulation, and responses of resistance, domination, and cooperation. The degree to which a given tribal group was affected by these issues depended largely on its exposure to missionaries, fur-traders, and other European emigrants.

It was of utmost priority to Kroeber that California anthropologists salvage the most information possible on California’s Native groups, as those data in turn were to be used as windows into the prehistoric past. Berkeley ethnographers considered a group ethnographically valuable based on its overall integrity as an autonomous unit, resembling what the anthropologists imagined to be pristine and mostly unchanged from prehistoric times. In this manner, many groups were deemed too factionalized as a result of prolonged acculturation to have maintained traditional ancestral knowledge and tradition. For example, Kent Lightfoot (2005:227-230) explains that the Kayshaya were a group viewed as an ideal, pristine tribal unit in Kroeber’s eyes, being as the group had mostly retained a single language, culture, and group identity. Similarly, and perhaps to an even greater degree, the Pit River tribes of Northeast California would qualify as study-worthy by Kroeber’s ethnographers, resulting in no less than eight affiliates of his program (including Kroeber) targeting the group for research.

Implications of U.C. Berkeley Ethnographic/ Ethnologic Research

Berkeley anthropologists of the early 1900s were among other American anthropologists of the era who operated within a culture-historical paradigm when studying Native American groups. This approach led practitioners to view Native

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American groups as static, ahistorical, distinct ethnic groups, mostly neglecting the effects that contact and colonialism had on Native peoples. Hence, an “ethnographic present” was borne, effectively perpetuating static, normative models of culture and projecting as much onto past groups sometimes centuries removed from the time data was attained.

One implication of the process by which tribal groups were qualified arose when groups were to receive federal recognition later in the 20th century. Berkeley- defined tribal units were ultimately used as the definitive indicator of who was legitimately “Indian enough” to be federally recognized as so. Groups such as the

Kashaya Pomo, Pit River, and multiple southern tribes of the mission experience were to be recognized as autonomous groups while northern missionized “mixed-bloods” and numerous equally less-fortunate groups subject to harsh colonial encounters were denied such recognition (Lightfoot 1995:228).

Hence, Berkeley’s early work with California native groups has influenced the way California natives, including the Pit Rivers, are perceived today. Our understanding of prehistoric life ways has largely been painted by those affluent and educated, non-

Native, Western anthropologists, based upon ethnographic analogues for a distant time and people. Still, the ethnographers themselves – and the conditions of their research – are sorely underappreciated and seldom acknowledged by practitioners who reference those works. It is hoped that by acknowledging these issues and identifying potential biases a more informed use of the ethnographic record for the Pit River Atsugewi can be employed.

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Ethnohistorical Literature Review

To follow is a critical review of ethnographic and historical resources pertaining to the Atsugewi. The list is not exhaustive, as additional ethnological sources can be found relating to the Pit Rivers and surrounding tribal groups. Those sources not included in this review should be consulted for a more complete understanding of aboriginal life ways and intertribal relations in Northeast California.

In order to provide historical context for and assess the relevance and credibility of each source the following points offered by Lightfoot (1995:205) have been considered: 1) the time of the observation; 2) the cultural context in which the text was written; 3) the nature of the text (e.g., journal, letter, report); 4) the training of the observer; 5) the method of observation; and 6) the degree to which different observations corroborate with one another. Additional sources not reviewed, but still found to be important contributions to our understandings of the Atsugewi can be found referenced within this thesis. This review is organized by chronological order according to the date in which fieldwork was conducted, and not by the date a study was officially published.

Primary Ethnographic Research on the Atsugewi

Alfred L. Kroeber (Field Work: 1900; Published: 1925)

Prior to receiving his doctoral degree at Columbia and professorship at the

University of California, Berkeley, Alfred Kroeber embarked on his second trip to

California (first to Atsugewi country) to collect ethnographic data. Of the experience

Kroeber candidly reports in his 1958 publication An Atsugewi Word List:

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With the angels fearing to tread, I step in with an Atsugewi vocabulary. It is culled from word lists, paradigms, texts, and ethnography which I obtained in the week beginning November 2, 1900, at Cassel on , mostly from Charlie Snook. Confidentially, the material stinks, but it may incite my successors and betters to present something as it ought to be. The vocabulary is printed as recorded, except for changes which I indicate. [Kroeber 1958:213]

Kroeber (1958:213) explains that during his trip to California he visited

Roland Dixon, who was at the time completing a season’s work with the Maidu, and

Alfred Tozzer, together traveling by horse stage from Redding up the Pit River. Kroeber stayed at Hat Creek conducting ethnographic work, predominantly linguistics oriented, with the Atsuge; Dixon and Tozzer proceeded to the nearby town of Fall River Mills to collect data on the Achomawi. Selected data from Kroeber’s week with the Atsuge would be published in 1925 and 1958.

In his landmark 1925 publication Handbook of the Indians of California,

Kroeber combines the efforts of his own and other U.C. Berkeley anthropologists in compiling “traditional” descriptions of Indigenous California. A product of his ongoing salvage-ethnography efforts, the Handbook provides a brief chapter on the Achomawi and Atsugewi, comprised largely of secondary data supplied by the earlier works of

Dixon (1908a), Gifford (1922), and Golomshtok (1922), each of whom conducted ethnological work on those groups between 1900 and 1922, in addition to his own field work (1900) discussed above. As so, the Handbook is a most useful synthesis of existing work, up to 1925, on the Atsugewi.

Roland B. Dixon (Field Work: 1900, 1903; Published: 1908)

“A naturalist translated into a scholar in the field of culture history seems to sum up what Dixon above all was in Anthropology” (Tozzer and Kroeber 1945:4).

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Trained in language studies, Dixon received a PhD from Harvard in 1900; his dissertation consisted of a linguistic study on the Maidu, southern neighbors to the Atsugewi (Tozzer and Kroeber 1945:1). Dixon’s ethnographic style is one of dry scientific description, heavily reliant upon trait lists which treat indigenous cultures as primitive and unchanging through time. Nevertheless, his work stands as the second earliest (after

Powers) scholarly study published on the Achomawi and Atsugewi. As a close colleague of A.L. Kroeber and former doctoral student of Franz Boas, Dixon’s training and work among California native groups was coordinated with and consistent in scope and purpose to that of Kroeber and U.C. Berkeley affiliates of the following decades.

In 1908, published Dixon’s Notes on the Achomawi and Atsugewi Indians of Northern California. The publication reports on field work conducted by Dixon in the summers of 1900 and 1903 while collecting linguistic data on the Achomawi and Atsugewi, funded by and for the American Museum of Natural

History as part of its Huntington Expedition (Dixon 1908a:208). In addition to language, the expedition described Achomawi and Atsugewi culture traits, including social organization, subsistence strategies, technologies, religious beliefs and customs

(especially mythology), the geographic location of bands, and inter and intra-tribal level political relationships.

C. Hart Merriam (Field Work: 1907-1926; Published: 1926)

Esteemed naturalist, zoologist, and ethnologist, C. Hart Merriam spent the years 1874-1877 nurturing his passion for natural history and biology at the Sheffield

Scientific School before pursuing interests in medicine and surgery, receiving an M.D.

35 from the College of Physicians and Surgeons of Columbia at the age of 24 (Osgood

1944:4).

A perfectionist driven by insatiable curiosities of the natural and cultural world, Merriam produced nearly 500 publications, described 660 new mammals, and collected 140,000 mammal specimens in his lifetime (Osgood 1944:25). After 25 years acting as head of the Biological Survey, Merriam accepted a research endowment in

1910, from which he could pursue research on more liberal terms, mostly of his choosing

(Osgood 1944:22). His pursuits turned from zoology to his lifelong interests in the aboriginal groups of California. He would apply his detailed scientific methods of data recording used as a zoologist to ethnology, resulting in a massive catalogue of thorough and detailed descriptions of native groups, including 20 ethnological publications during his lifetime (Kroeber 1955:xi; Osgood 1944:22).

Of the monographs produced by Merriam, The Classification and Distribution of The Pit River Indian Tribes of California stands aside Kniffen (1928) and Garth (1953) for its detailed descriptions of Achomawi and Atsugewi language, culture, geography, flora and faunal. The nine Achomawi and two Atsugewi bands are individually discussed, including place names, and esoteric and general terms used by each band; this is especially useful for comparisons between the various group dialects. Merriam offers a map of the complete Pit River tribal territory, whose boundary delineations differ to

Kniffen (1928) in several key locations (see editor’s preface in Kniffen 1928). The monograph further supplies photographs taken throughout Pit River tribal land, demonstrating cultural and geographical variation in the region.

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Merriam’s monograph is the result of nearly two decades (1907-1926) of sporadic visits to the region, during which major tribal areas were visited and informants were sought for traditional knowledge. Informants are not listed and are only casually named within various footnotes; for example, Harry Wilson, a headman of the Apwaruke is referenced but with no demographic data or date of contact (Merriam 1926:39).

Discussion specific to the Apwaruke is particularly valuable in regard to provided word lists (Merriam 1926:37, 38, 40), environmental description and former villages of the group (Merriam 1926:39).

Testament to the quality and usefulness of Merriam’s monograph is found in

Kroeber’s (1927:350, 351) review published in American Anthropologist, wherein

Kroeber states “That Dr. Merriam’s inquiries are painstaking and his data as accurate as such data can be today, goes without saying; their fullness alone would carry conviction of his conscientiousness.”

E. W. Gifford (Field Work: 1922; Unpublished Notes: 1922)

Originally trained in ornithology, E.W. Gifford began his association with

Kroeber and Lowie as assistant curator of the Museum of Anthropology, U.C. Berkeley in 1912. Throughout his career at Berkeley Gifford helped define the university’s program. He contributed to roughly 100 publications alongside Kroeber and Lowie, dedicated to salvaging information about California’s native cultures.

Gifford and student E. W. Golomshtok visited the Hat Creek Atsuge band of the Atsugewi in 1922. His primary informant, John Snooks, was an elderly Atsuge man born near the Rising River in Hat Creek. Gifford’s unpublished notes on the Achomawi

37 and Atsugewi emphasize puberty rituals, housing, and shamanism. Informant John

Snooks alludes to the differences between the Hat Creek Atsuge and Dixie Valley

Apwaruke, acknowledging he knows few details concerning the latter. This fact remains important in recognizing that the two bands were ethnographically autonomous units, despite their commonly being treated by ethnographers as a single, united entity, the

Atsugewi.

The results of Gifford’s research, Notes on Achomawi and Atsugewi

Miscellany (1922), remains unpublished and is currently available on microfilm at the

Bancroft Library, Berkeley. Though his own fieldwork with the Atsugewi proved brief, he assisted and advised future students including Golomshtok (1922), Park (1936), and

Garth (1938-39), each of whom continued ethnographic research with the group.

Eugene A. Golomshtok (Field Work: 1922; Unpublished Thesis: 1922)

Eugene Golomshtok, born, raised, and educated in Russia, produced a 100 page, unpublished thesis manuscript as the product of his graduate thesis work at the

University of California, Berkeley in 1922. His advisors included Kroeber, Lowie, and

M. Radin. Gifford was not formally part of Golomshtok’s thesis committee but would accompany Golomshtok in his first week of ethnographic field work with the Atsugewi.

Gifford further offered his notes and advice as guidance (Golomshtok 1922: introduction). The thesis manuscript Ethnology of the Atsugewi Indians (1922) is replete with grammatical errors (likely owing to the fact English was not the native Russian’s primary language) and edits in progress.

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The greater part of Golomshtok’s data was obtained over a period of seven weeks in the summer of 1922 from two Hat Creek Atsuge informants, Lee Boone (age

57) and Rodrig Buckskin (age unknown), the elder son of the last great chief of the

Atsugewi, Buckskin Jack. Four additional informants (unnamed), including one Dixie

Valley Apwaruke, were interviewed but contributed only minimally to the final study

(Golomshtok 1922:Introduction).

Similar to Gifford (1922), Voegelin (1942) and Park (1986), Golomshtok’s research primarily concerned the Hat Creek Atsuge, with little data directly pertinent to the Dixie Valley Apwaruke. Topics covered include: social and political organization, subsistence, housing, ceremonial, and especially mythological descriptions of Atsugewi culture. Data is heavily descriptive with little to no interpretation. One exception to this may be found in Golomshtok’s concluding chapter which reads: “My opinion is that the culture of the Atsugewi is of a lower grade than that of the Shasta of Achomawi, but it may be due to the fact that it is more original and less influenced by outsiders.” This statement supports the notion then held by Kroeber, that the Atsugewi were a “simple” culture group (see Park 1986:vii).

Golomshtok’s thesis manuscript constitutes the most comprehensive ethnographic effort specific to the Atsugewi as of 1922. Primary data from his efforts pertaining to the Ghost Dance revival of 1870-1872, burial practices, winter and sweat- house types, and clothing comprise the majority of Kroeber’s discussion of the Atsugewi included in the 1925 Handbook of the Indians of California. This latter fact is testament to how little formal research had been conducted on the group prior to 1922. Also of significance is the series of photographs taken by Golomshtok during his visits to

39

Atsugewi country (specifically housing structures in Dixie Valley), later used by Garth

(1978).

Fred B. Kniffen (Field Work: 1926; Published: 1928)

Kniffen received his doctoral degree in cultural geography from the

University of California, Berkeley in 1929 (Vlach 1995:328). During his tenure at

Berkeley in the late 1920s, he trained in both geography and anthropology, the latter taking place under the direction of A.L. Kroeber (Mathewson 1994:35).

Berkeley’s school of geography in the late 1920s is noted for its focus on regional and historical studies of human cultural relations with the biophysical environment, particularly in third world contexts (Mathewson 1994:35). The theoretical approach taken by Kniffen and others of the Berkeley school was rooted in the tradition of field-oriented, empirical investigation of the material constructions of pre-modern peoples (Mathewson 1994:35).

Kniffen visited the Pit River region in 1926, publishing Achomawi Geography two years later in 1928. He sought to use ethnography to reconstruct the habitat and occupied sites of the Achomawi and Atsugewi as they were prior to Euroamerican influence. Kniffen acknowledges the difficulty in doing as much, owing the drastic effects non-native immigrants inflicted on aboriginal cultures and habitats resulting from agriculture, ranching, and timber cutting (Kniffen 1928: 299, 318). Kniffen fails to document the sources of his data (that is, his specific informants) or the exact methods of his ethnographic work, only noting that informants often told conflicting stories about the

40 political make up of their people, and that many had forgotten the village places of their ancestors (Kniffen 1928:299).

Obstacles aside, Kniffen successfully attained data pertaining to Achomawi and Atsugewi habitat, including geographical, faunal and flora descriptions, place names, and a brief culture summary of each of the eleven Pit River bands. Of particular value is

Kniffen’s map of Achomawi and Atsugewi territorial boundaries, arguably the most accepted tribal territory map for the Pit River nation to date. The editor’s preface to

Kniffen’s 1928 publication can be consulted for a comparison of Kniffen’s study with that of C. H. Merriam’s published two years prior (1926). Kniffen’s Achomawi

Geography remains a foundational study of importance pertaining to cultural- geographical and territorial understandings of the ethnographic Achomawi and Atsugewi.

Susan Park (Field Work: 1931-1933; Published: 1986)

First year graduate student of the University of California, Berkeley, Susan

Park was sent by A.L. Kroeber to “cut her teeth on a simple group” (Park 1986:vii) by studying the Atsugewi over a period of three years from 1931-1933. By majority, Park’s informants belonged to the Atsuge band; however, occasional reference to the Dixie

Valley Apwaruke following her brief stay there with informants Lyman and Selena

LaMarr in 1933 have provided a candid, personal feel to her report. Her primary informant is Atsuge shaman Samson Grant, who had been removed to the Round Valley

Indian Reservation in his youth before returning around the age of 20 to his homeland in

Hat Creek.

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Park’s data was not published until 1986, 53 years following her last visit with her Atsugewi informant. Admittedly aging and much removed from her early research, other Atsugewi ethnographic works are referenced by the author, supplementing finer details and information long lost to time (Park 1986:xiii). Park’s work is most valuable for its recount of Samson Grant’s experiences during the Removal period (late 1850s-

1870s), descriptions of Atsuge shamanism, and for its record of Atsuge myths.

Erminie W. Voegelin (Field Work: 1936; Published: 1942, 1973)

Erminie Wheeler-Voegelin earned a graduate degree from the University of

California, Berkeley in 1923, under the guidance of professor and mentor A.L. Kroeber

(Tanner 1991:61). She then went on to receive her doctoral degree in anthropology from

Yale University in 1939, focusing on Shawnee Mortuary Customs (Tanner 1991:62).

Voegelin held various professorships and worked extensively collecting ethnographic data throughout North America on aboriginal groups into the 1980s. Her involvement with Pit River groups took place in 1936 (published in 1942) and again in the 1970s, related to work with the Indian Claims Commission whereby she compiled an extensive ethnological report on the Pit River Indians (Tanner 1991:65).

In her 1942 publication, Voegelin provides a comprehensive trait listing of cultural elements found throughout tribes of northeastern California, including bands of the Achomawi and Atsugewi. Informants were asked multiple questions concerning cultural practices, lifestyle, customs, rituals and beliefs, and various other details of indigenous existence. Her sole Atsugewi informant was Julie Bob, Atsuge (Hat Creek) age 79. Bob spoke the Atsuge dialect of Atsugewi, and very poor English.

42

Voegelin and U.C. Berkeley professors Driver and Kroeber collaborated to prepare the trait list which contains over 5,500 elements, including specific details on most major cultural variables (Voegelin 1942:47). The list proves most useful as a supplementary data source used in concert with other, more detailed ethnographic works.

Voegelin provides a clear description of her interview methodology, stating that “far from a list deterring informants from volunteering information, it obviously stimulated comments” (Voegelin 1942:47). Her data were published as part of the University of

California, Berkeley Publication in Anthropological Records.

Voegelin’s research, like those of the decades preceding, pertains specifically to pre-contact, traditional life ways, despite being gathered well over half a century following the complete transformation of the native communities she surveys. Her data on Atsugewi culture elements is exclusive to the Atsuge (Hat Creek) band, and therefore offers little information of direct value to Apwaruke-specific life ways.

Thomas R. Garth (Field Work: 1938, 1939; Published: 1953)

The most comprehensive ethnographic study of the Atsugewi to date, Garth’s

Atsugewi Ethnography is the single-most detailed source for the Atsugewi, and specifically the Dixie Valley Apwaruke.

As a graduate student at U.C. Berkeley, Garth conducted interviews with five

Atsuge (Hat Creek) and eight Apwaruke (Dixie Valley) members in the summers of 1938 and 1939. Atsuge informants included Dave Brown (age 80-85), Sarah Brown (age 73),

Kleeman Boney (age 45), Johnny Snook (age 90-95; also interviewed by Gifford and

Golomshtok in 1922), and Bogquita Wilson (age 55). Apwaruke informants included

43

John Lamar (age 72), Bill McClennan (age 75), Bill Norman (age 60), Ida Peconom (age

68), Lucy Rivers (age 55-60), Gomez Mullen (age 35-40), Mary Wilson (age 70), and

Jerry Wilson (age 72). His work in Dixie Valley with Apwaruke informants included 16 days (June 2-17) in 1938 (Garth 1938a).

In addition to listing his informants, their age and band affiliation, Garth reports the reliability and level of helpfulness (in terms of memory/knowledge of traditional ways) of each. It is notable that his informants are by majority over the age of

55 years, and that in describing the contributions of his two youngest informants, aged

35-40 and 45, Garth (1953:Introduction) writes “remembered myths but little else” and

“did not remember much.” From Garth’s sample of 13 informants it is evident that those born at or around the turn of the 20th century were less knowledgeable of traditional ways than preceding generations had been.

Atsugewi Ethnography covers a wide breadth of culture elements including: economic life, material culture, life cycle, social life, political organization and wealth, the supernatural, cosmogony and reckonings. In addition to detailed descriptions of

Atsugewi culture collected through his own field work, cross-reference was made to

Kniffen (1928), Kroeber (1925), Merriam (1926), Voegelin (1942), Gifford (1922), and

Dixon (1922) as appropriate, resulting in a thorough, scholarly effort.

Within Garth’s work, differences between the Atsuge and Apwaruke bands of the Atsugewi are usually documented, specific informants being identified for most data presented, yet it remains unclear at times as to which band certain attributes pertain (this persists as a problem throughout most ethnographic work on the Atsugewi).

44

Personal letters written between Garth and his advisors while undertaking field work with the Atsugewi indicate the tedious nature of the task, as he struggled with time, finances, and with locating reliable informants that maintained “traditional” knowledge. In a letter to Lowie dated July 17, 1938, Garth states that he is “too broke to return quite yet to Dixie Valley” but wished to return in order to make order of mixed information concerning root irrigation techniques traditionally used there (Garth 1938b).

Despite being denied a doctoral degree from his advisors A.L. Kroeber and

R.H. Lowie at Berkeley, Garth was awarded a Master’s of Arts degree in anthropology for his ethnographic work with the Atsugewi. Garth arguably became the foremost academic authority on the Atsugewi. This is evident in his being selected to author the section Atsugewi (Garth 1978:236-243) for inclusion in the Handbook of North American

Indians, the most comprehensive synthesis of California Indians to follow Kroeber’s

1925 Handbook. From his initial field work of 1938 and 1939 Garth produced a total of four publications pertaining to Atsugewi culture (Garth 1944, 1945, 1953, 1978).

Primary Ethnographic and Ethnohistorical Reports Pertaining To the Achomawi and Atsugewi

Stephen Powers (Field Work: 1871, 1872; Published: 1877)

Ohio born (1840) and graduate of the University of Michigan (1863), adventurer Stephen Powers had no formal training in either anthropology or ethnography prior to producing the first comprehensive survey of California’s native peoples of its kind. In an unprecedented undertaking Powers spent the summers of 1871 and 1872 visiting 29 tribal groups, describing cultural traits, customs, mythology, geographic and

45 cultural boundaries, and offering personal impressions. At the encouragement of J.W.

Powell (then head of the Department of Interior’s Geographical and Geological Survey of the Rocky Mountain Region), Powers soon after prepared his study for publication in book form (Powers 1976:1-6). The Tribes of California, published in 1877, offered readers a glimpse, if not a biased and opinionated one, into the theretofore understudied native groups of California.

The details of Powers’ publication prove invaluable owing the sparsity of ethnographic data on California tribes at its time. Kroeber (1925:ix) lauded the work for its scope but recognized the great inaccuracies and erroneous statements found within.

Like many academics of his time, Powers viewed human cultural and physical diversity from an evolutionary perspective. An evolutionary paradigm dominated scientific understandings of humans based upon a then early, incomplete and often misconstrued understanding of human evolution brought forward in Charles Darwin’s groundbreaking

1859 publication On the Origin of Species. Evolution, the process by which an organism’s reproductive success (e.g., fitness) is demonstrated through natural selection, was immediately applied to the human species. The popular ideology arose that human diversity, as indicated by race, had resulted from a progression of adaptive successes whereby peoples of European heritage represented the pinnacle of biological fitness, succeeding less-evolved, and thereby inferior races of man (Trigger 2006:177).

Evolutionary undertones are evident throughout Power’s works, demonstrating a perspective in which Native Americans were of an inferior race, uncivilized and unfortunate, desperate for the influence of Western civilization. An

46 example of this can be found in Power’s description of the Hot Spring Valley Indians (the

Astariwi band of the Achomawi):

I dismounted and stood fifteen minutes watching a group of them eating one of those execrable Pit River suckers; and never in my life have I seen so saddening and so piteous a spectacle of the results which come from seizing out into bondage year after year all the comeliest maidens and bravest youths of a people. All the best young blood of the nation is filched out of it, and instead of physical advancement by the Darwinian principle of “selection”, here is steady embrutement by the propagation of the worst. [Powers 1976:268]

While Tribes of California greatly benefits from the clarity and context provided by Heizer’s 1976 annotations, it’s minimal, yet blatantly biased discussion of the Pit River peoples has been referenced only minimally for this thesis. Nonetheless, the publication provides the earliest known scholarly study of the Achomawi and Atsugewi, and serves to illustrate the ideological mindset in which much of the academic and general populace viewed Native Americans from 1859 into the 20th century; an ideology that was to be used by many to admonish traditional Native American life ways, thereby justifying their replacement by Western civilization. Repercussions of evolutionary thinking are more fully illustrated within the discussion on the Dawes Allotment Act of

1887 in Chapter VI.

Jaime de Angulo (Field Work: 1921, 1922; Published: 1926; 1930; 1950)

Jaime de Angulo is by most descriptions an eccentric anthropologist fascinated by linguistics. Born in Paris, 1887, Angulo went on to receive a medical degree from John Hopkins University in 1914 before becoming disillusioned by the science and retreating to Alturas, California where he owned and worked a cattle ranch

47 for a brief time (Angulo 1990:101). It was in Alturas that Angulo was first introduced to

Achomawi culture and language.

After leaving Alturas, Angulo met Alfred Kroeber and Paul Radin of U.C.

Berkeley in 1918, soon after being invited by Kroeber to lecture on his ideas concerning psychiatry and primitive thought. Continued association with Kroeber, Radin, and linguist fueled his passion for linguistics and ethnography, leading him to revisit the Achomawi of Alturas, California in 1921 to conduct his first linguistic field trip. These experiences inspired his best-known publication Indians in Overalls, written in 1942 (Angulo 1990:102-107). Additional publications by Angulo deal more specifically with Achomawi and Atsugewi language structure (Angulo and Freeland

1930) and belief systems (Angulo 1926).

Indians in Overalls is more literary than formal in delivery, creating a narrative through which the story of his experiences with Pit River peoples and places is given equal attention as are the language and culture traits that are of ultimate interest to the ethnographer. Angulo’s accounts stray from the strict scientist to informant interaction of typical ethnographies; his accounts are instead taken from days to even week’s long interactions with Pit River friends and acquaintances. The resulting methodology is one of participant observation as opposed to strict interviewer to interviewee.

The title Indians in Overalls makes reference to the acculturation of the

Achomawi of the early 1920s as they continued to transition from traditional life ways to those of Western civilization. Angulo’s accounts demonstrate how aspects of shamanism, mythology, gambling, dancing, marriage practices, language, and subsistence practices

48 were maintained and assimilated to varying degrees with Western elements, such as the

English language, city living and technology (e.g., clothing, automobile, rifle). One particularly striking example of this is found as Angulo (1990:47-51) describes his travels with a group of Achomawi, migrating nonchalantly from place to place in a manner loosely resembling that of the old tradition, except that the automobile had replaced pedestrian travel. Traditional gender roles remained enforced as the men hunted (albeit with rifles), women prepared food and kept busy making willow baskets, while the group settled and moved according to the lead of a single authority, or headman. The account denotes the way one Achomawi band seamlessly merged traditional elements of migration, social hierarchy and labor division with Western culture elements of the

1920s.

That the circumstances described by Angulo persisted into the 1920s is evidence of a native population struggling with poverty, illness, and social inequality, but also of a people successfully incorporating elements of Euroamerican culture with their own indigenous culture. When read in concert with Gillihan and Shaffer’s (1921) and

Macgregor’s (1936) reports on living conditions of the Achomawi and Atsugewi, the richness and value of Angulo’s accounts are more fully appreciated. The accounts do not deal with the Dixie Valley Apwaruke directly, but involve travels and interactions with peoples throughout the immediate vicinity (e.g., Big Valley, Fall River Mills, Canby) where Apwaruke individuals and families had by that time relocated.

The Gillihan and Shaffer Report (1921)

On March 28, 1921, Dr. Allen F. Gillihan, District Health Officer, and Mrs.

Alma B. Shaffer, Public Health Nurse of the California State Board of Health, entered the

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Pit River region to survey the conditions of Native peoples living there (Gillihan and

Shaffer 1921:2). The survey came at the request of California Governor William D.

Stephens after several Pit River peoples traveled to the State Capitol in Sacramento to plead for assistance. They had long been ignored by federal and state Indian agents, and were in great despair owing to poverty, starvation, discrimination, neglect, the failing

Dawes Allotment policy, and several disease outbreaks including a recent smallpox epidemic that devastated Pit River populations. The investigation and report ultimately led to charges of willful neglect against the regional health service in 1929 (Smith

1995:174). The study very much resembled the better known Merriam Report of 1928, which revealed to Congress the poor state of American Indian affairs and resulted in the reversal of the Dawes Allotment Act and signing of the Indian Reorganization Act in

1934 (Smith 1995:175).

Survey was conducted by personal home visits to Pit River families throughout Montgomery Creek, Round Mountain, Burney, Goose, Big, Fall River,

Surprise and Dixie Valleys, Fort Bidwell, and Likely (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:3, 4).

Living and health conditions were recorded for each family in addition to notes on each one’s relations with the federal government, i.e., regional Indian Agent. The report was cut short after two months of field work due to hostilities brought on by a local

Euroamerican antagonist of Native Americans in the area.

In addition to its social and political implications, Gillihan and Shaffer’s report provides critical insight into the social and economic conditions of the Pit Rivers at the start of the 1920s, the same decade anthropologists would begin pouring into the region to salvage cultural knowledge. Such conditions are alluded to, but hardly stressed

50 in those ethnographic works. Hence, the report offers invaluable context to otherwise minimally self-critical ethnographies of the day.

Gordon Macgregor (1936)

In autumn of 1936, Anthropologist Dr. Macgregor was dispatched to the Pit

River region to conduct a survey for the Sacramento Office, Bureau of Indian Affairs regarding the deteriorating physical, social, and economic conditions of native communities coping with the 1934 implementation of the Indian Reorganization Act (this act reversed that of the failed Dawes Allotment Act of 1887). As a trained anthropologist much attuned to the social and political conditions responsible for the problems

California natives confronted, Gordon delivers an insightful summary of Pit River history, prehistory, and current (1936) conditions. Discussion ranging from education and law and order to religion and economic conditions in six Pit River region settlements

(Alturas, Hot Springs, Fall River Valley, Fall River Mills, Hat Creek, Dixie Valley) provide insight into the tragic economic conditions of the Achomawi and Atsugewi peoples. Depth and insight provided are rivaled only by Garth (1953) and Park (1986) concerning the post-allotment 1930s period.

The Macgregor Report is unpublished and has not (to the knowledge of this author) otherwise been acknowledged by researchers of the region. Of most value to the present study is Macgregor’s description of Indian conditions in Dixie Valley which documents the remaining Apwaruke struggling to maintain livelihoods there in the late

1930s. Also of interest are Macgregor’s “Recommendations for Rehabilitation and

Reorganization.” The report serves well as a follow-up to that of the similar, yet, pre-

Indian Reorganization study by Gillihan and Shaffer (1921).

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Secondary Works Dealing With Atsugewi and Achomawi History

Ernest R. Neasham (1957)

Neasham, a school teacher for the Fall River Joint Unified School District, began researching the Fall River Valley while compiling local historical sources for classroom and student use. Upon revealing the rich and layered history of the area the project quickly grew into a larger effort. Major ethnographies, local interviews, and various historical journals and archives were used to piece together a history of the Fall

River Valley up to 1890.

Neasham’s Fall River Valley, An Examination of Historical Sources: Fall

River Valley and the Intermountain Area from the Earliest Times Until 1890 is specific to

Fall River Valley, homeland to the Achomawi band of the Achomawi tribe. Chapter one,

Aborigines (Neasham 1957:5-19), is comprised of a synthesis of Achomawi, and to a lesser degree, Atsugewi culture history. The synthesis heavily draws upon the work of

Garth (1953), Kniffen (1928), Powers (1877) and Kroeber (1925), but of greatest value, from local newspapers and the journals of early Fall River Valley residents General

George Crook, Calvin Hall, and C. H. Manning.

Neasham presents a well cited, scholarly written historical synthesis, illuminating contact through early historic-era pioneer-Achomawi relations. Although the

Fall River Valley is located to the northwest of Dixie Valley, its being host to Fort Crook beginning in 1857 makes the location and its history relevant to all of Pit River territory.

Military interactions with Natives in and around the Fall River Valley, including key

52 clashes with the Hat Creek Atsuge, effectively eliminated those perceived as “hostile

Indians,” opening up the broader region (including Dixie Valley) for pioneer settlement.

Babe Wilson (1997, 1998)

Babe Wilson composed Remove them Beyond the West in satisfaction of his doctoral dissertation for the University of . He draws heavily from Park’s 1931-

1933 interviews with shaman Samson Grant (Wilson’s grandfather), but provides a personal perspective rooting from his own Atsuge heritage. Wilson recounts Atsugewi stories and describes native interactions with the military during removal and extermination efforts in the Pit River region (1850s-1870s).

Wilson is impassioned in his accounts of the history of his people and their long-time struggles following Euroamerican intrusion into their homelands. This is especially apparent in his detailed descriptions of the atrocities suffered by the Atsugewi and Achomawi (as told by Samson Grant) during relocation to the Round Valley

Reservation in Covelo. In doing so, Wilson provides an important perspective, writing from both scholarly and “subject” positions. His research is comprised predominantly of secondary data, but enhanced by personal, if not emic, experiences of growing up Atsuge and learning of the culture first-hand.

Glorianne Weigand (1996)

Weigand, a local Northeastern California historian and rancher, uses historical archival data, interviews with local families linked to the historical settlement of the region, journals and unpublished manuscripts in compiling material for her Dusty Trails series, a collection of local histories. In her 1996 self-published More Dusty Trails,

Weigand dedicates a chapter, The Beautiful Dixie Valley, to the historic Dixie Valley

53 ranch. Of particular value is Weigand’s use of an unpublished manuscript written by Lil

Lambert, a long-time resident of the Dixie ranch.

Weigand covers the early arrival of Euroamerican settlers into the valley through to 1995, providing a chronological sequence of ranch owners, associated stories and events. Her insight into the history of the Dixie Valley ranch is delivered from a rancher-historian perspective in casual narrative style, less formality and scholarly prose.

Her focus is on general ranch history, with incidental reference to the indigenous peoples living and laboring there. Nonetheless, Weigand’s research provides valuable record of the role of Indian labor in early ranch operations, the seasonal migration of non-resident

Indian laborers into the valley, and of Indian cowboys and their families who remained successfully employed at the ranch after 1900.

Miscellaneous Ethnohistoric Sources on the Atsugewi

Additional works containing historical data pertaining to the Pit River region include Dottie Smith’s The History of the Indians of Shasta County (1995) and Thelma L.

Shiplet’s Shasta County East of Hatchet Mountain: An 1853-1900 Newspaper History

(no date). Each contain early excerpts from northeast California newspapers, the former dealing exclusively with Indian accounts, the latter being more general in scope but including numerous accounts of Indian affairs. These sources are transcribed from original documents, containing little to no annotations by the authors. By the nature of the information compiled, these sources reflect the views and opinions of those journalists and citizens that contributed to local and regional media.

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Regional histories of significance to the Pit River region include: Merrill

Fairfield’s Fairfield’s Pioneer History of Lassen County to 1870 (1916), and Farris and

Smith’s (1882) Illustrated history of Plumas, Lassen & Sierra Counties, with California from 1513 to 1850.

Three reports containing comprehensive syntheses of ethnographic and ethnological sources pertaining to the Achomawi and Atsugewi include: California

Indians III: Pitt River Indians of California (1974) compiled by Ermine Wheeler-

Voegelin for the Indian Claims Commission; Anthropological Overview of a Portion of

Lassen and Modoc Counties, California, Vol. 1 (1979), prepared by Theodoratus Cultural

Research for the Susanville, Bureau of Land Management; and Historical Overview of a

Portion of Lassen and Modoc Counties, California (1980), compiled by Lois Roberts and submitted to the Susanville District, Bureau of Land Management. These sources contain extensive reference to, and in some cases summary and review of early ethnological documents including journals and diaries of early explorers and trappers, military officers, settlers, and emigrants.

Chapter Summary

The preceding chapter has provided a context for and review of key ethnographic works pertaining to the Atsugewi of Northeast California. A discussion of the U.C. Berkeley anthropology program headed by A.L. Kroeber in the early half of the

20th Century has been included, as that program was responsible for the collection and publication of a great majority of ethnographical information that exists on the Atsugewi.

55

The value of this chapter is found in the identification of biases and issues inherent in the ethnographic process employed by ethnographers of the early 20th

Century. It has been shown, consistent with other works produced by early Berkeley ethnographers, that Atsugewi ethnographers put forth descriptions of a static, distinct, , with little acknowledgement of the effects that nearly a century of contact and colonialism had had on the Native population.

I also revealed that Kroeber sent at least two of his students to study the

Atsugewi because he considered them a simple group, one his less experienced students could “cut their teeth” on. An additional value of my research has been in identifying which ethnographers actually visited Dixie Valley, and for how long, versus those who visited only the Hat Creek Atsuge but published their findings as “Atsugewi ethnography” to include the related, yet autonomous, Apwaruke band.

Early U.C. Berkeley ethnographic works have gone on to form the baseline for Atsugewi and multiple other California Native identities in the eyes of academia, the public, and the United States government. Those legacies, particularly as related to a tribe’s status and recognition by the United States government have greatly influenced long-term Native political identities and tribal political and economic standings to this day. These designations also affect archaeologists when determining most likely descendants and cultural affiliation for consultation in matters of heritage resource management.

It is an unfortunate reality that many groups that were never recognized ethnographically have a difficult time arguing their place in history. This serves as an important reminder to anthropologists and archaeologists practicing today that what they

56 say and write often carries unintended power in its influence over the political identities of Native peoples. A self-awareness of how one’s work might be used in the future puts heavy ethical and professional responsibility upon practitioners to assure the works they produce are accurate and well informed. In light of this responsibility, I argue the importance of collaborative archaeology (Chapter VII) whereby Native groups have an opportunity to help anthropologists define who they were, and are. It is with this critical analysis that a more informed use of the ethnographic record can be employed.

CHAPTER IV

ETHNOGRAPHIC OVERVIEW

This chapter synthesizes pre-contact Atsugewi culture traits as understood from the ethnographic record, with support from archaeological and Ethnohistorical data, as applicable. When considered in historical context with Chapter’s V and IX to follow, a foundation and context for understanding pre and post-contact indigenous life ways is achieved. As the previous chapter identified issues one must consider when working with

Atsugewi ethnographies, this section has been compiled using only data from those works considered by this author to have been most reliably obtained and supported.

Secondary works have been used only sparingly.

I fully acknowledge potential shortcomings inherent in the data I synthesize herein but also stand by the usefulness and importance of the ethnographic record for establishing a context for Atsugewi culture immediately prior to and during the early historic/contact era. Although ethnographers have typically used the direct-historical approach to push the “ethnographic present” into the prehistoric past, I hereby disclaim that my use of the record is not intended to represent a description of a pristine, pre- contact indigenous culture, but only provide insight into those traditional cultural practices that were still being acknowledged by Apwaruke peoples at the time ethnographic data was collected. The resulting culture description is an approximation of pre-contact life ways, at best.

57 58

It should be reaffirmed that a critical evaluation of the ethnographic record is not intended to dismiss it’s validity as a resource but to encourage practitioners to seek out additional lines of support (e.g., contemporary Native American knowledge, archaeological, and historical-archival records) when possible. This is a task this thesis seeks to accomplish. The result is a more comprehensive historical background, useful as a baseline for comparison against the proceeding eras of culture contact and assimilation.

Traditional Atsugewi Life Ways

The Achomawi (Achumawi, Ajumawi) tribe of northeastern California occupy territory from Mt. Shasta northeasterly to the east of Goose Lake, southerly through the Madeline Plains and around Horse and Eagle Lakes in the southeast, westerly to the northern flanks of Mt. Lassen, and northerly once more to Mt.

Shasta (Kniffen 1928:300). See Figure 2.

The Achomawi, known generically as the Pit River tribal group, collectively refers to two separate tribal groups, the Achomawi and Atsugewi, each speakers of distinct dialects belonging to the Palaihnihan family of the Hokan language stock.

Baumhoff and Olmstead (1963:283) estimate the two groups diverged from a single

Palaihnihan speaking group around 3,300 B.P. The Achomawi speaking group is further divided into 9 autonomous bands (Madesi, Itsatawi, Illmawi, Achomawi, Atwamsini,

Astariwi, Hewisedawi, Koselekte, and Hamawi) distributed across the northern half of Pit

River territory. To the south the Atsugewi are broken into two bands, the Atsuge and

Apwaruke. Bands traditionally occupied similar and perhaps overlapping terrain, and shared similar cultural traits. Kroeber (1925:306) acknowledges a lack of evidence to

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Figure 2. Pit River Tribal Map showing individual band territories. 1) Madesi 2) Illmawi 3) Achomawi 4) Atwamsini 5) Astariwi 6) Hewisedawi 7) Koselekte 8) Hamawi 9) Isatawi 10) Atsuge 11) Apwaruke.

Source: Adapted from Garth, Thomas R., 1978, Atsugewi. In California, edited by Robert F. Heizer, pp. 236–243. Handbook of North American Indians, William C. Sturtevant, general editor, vol. 8. Smithsonian Institution, Washington, D.C.

suggest individual bands or villages ever considered themselves politically united, pointing out that group names and locations appear geographical, rather than national, in character.

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The Atsugewi, and specifically the Apwaruke band, will be the focus of the proceeding discussion as that group occupied Dixie Valley from prehistory into the

1960s. It is notable that the Atsugewi are commonly discussed by early ethnographers as a single unit rather than two autonomous groups. Where possible, this overview will distinguish those data specific to the Dixie Valley Apwaruke.

Atsugewi Geographic and Social Organization

The names Atsuge (also Asuge, Atsugewi, At’soo-ka’-e, or Hat Creeks) meaning pine tree people, and Apwaruke (also Aporige, Apruki, Apwaruge, Apwaruke’i,

Ap-woo’-ro-ka’e, or Dixie Valley tribe), meaning juniper tree people, pay respective tribute to the geographical terrains that either group occupies (Park 1986:1).

The Atsuge occupy a vast coniferous expanse of yellow pine, grey pine, and oak, including the greater part of Burney Valley in the north, the Hat Creek Valley through its interior and south to the extensive lava ridges spreading north from Mt.

Lassen. The country is mountainous, containing numerous extinct volcanoes, the Burney,

Hat, and Lost Creek drainage basins, and multiple small lakes and deep volcanic ridges

(Merriam 1926:36).

The Apwaruke, located easterly and thus closer to the desert habitats of the western , occupy an area from Bald Mountain in the northwest, east to

Hayden Hill, southerly along the Madeline Plains, around Horse and Eagle Lakes in the southeast, west to Snag Lake, northerly to Blacks Mountain, and along the western edge of the Beaver Creek drainage northeast to Bald Mountain. The territory contains Horse and Eagle Lakes, Beaver Creek, Horse (Dixie) Creek, Pine Creek, and Willow Creek

61 drainages, with the former two creeks draining into the great southern bend of the easternmost Middle Pit River canyon.

The vast terrain includes large expanses of juniper and sage in the open country, dense pine cover on the high slopes protected from sun, and grass and marsh lands on the fertile valley floors. Located at the western periphery of the , the landscape is volcanic, rugged, with numerous craters, volcanoes and buttes, as well as great alkali flats (e.g., Grasshopper Valley) in the eastern territory butted against the

Madeline Plains. Owing its size and geographic character, Apwaruke territory contains vast areas of little economic, and hence, minimally settled tracts of land (Kniffen

1928:316, 317; Merriam 1926:38, 39).

For the Atsuge and Apwaruke, the feeling of independence between the two groups was strong despite shared language and frequent interaction (Golomshtok

1922:4). Either group’s territory was further divided into specific districts, each with an acting chief or headman of its own (Golomshtok 1922:4, 6, 7). For the Atsuge, these primary settlements occurred in Burney Valley and along Hat Creek (Kniffen 1928:315;

Kroeber 1925:316). For the Apwaruke, Kniffen (1928:316) marks major districts at Eagle

Lake, Dixie Valley, Little Valley, Willow Creek, and Grasshopper Valley. In the event of a communal hunt or question of war, decisions were deferred to the headmen of each group’s respected divisions who gathered separately to discuss matters. Thus intergroup boundaries were recognized, especially between the two main (Atsuge and Apwaruke) divisions (Golomshtok 1922:4). (This also holds true for the broader division between the

Achomawi and Atsugewi [Dixon 1908a:208].)

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Office of chief was hereditary from father to son (Golomshtok 1922:4; Park

1986:2) whereby the son that was the “best talker” inherited the office (Gifford 1922:20).

The influence a chief held over a district was generally minimal, his social status being dependent on his friendship with a shaman, who might hold even greater influence than the chief (Golomshtok 1922:8). The chief’s most important role was in organizing and directing the tribal economy. He did not punish people or impose fines but rather acted as arbiter in quarrels between members (Garth 1953:178).

Subsistence (Hunting, Fishing, Gathering)

Large mammals were hunted and consumed, including deer and pronghorn

(noted by Voegelin [1974:158] as constituting the staple flesh foods of the Apwaruke), and to a lesser degree elk, bear (black and grizzly), coyote, wildcat, and red fox; with deer being the most economically important (Garth 1953:132-135; Golomshtok 1922:25,

26). Methods employed to kill large game included using the bow and arrow with any combination of game drive fences of rock and/or brush, pit fall traps, snares, deer or pronghorn disguises (used for getting within killing range of the animal), charming (for pronghorn), and communal drives using rope and sometimes fire (Garth 1953:132-135).

Small game included rabbits, grey squirrel, porcupine, wood rat, skunk, and turtle. (Garth 1953:132; Kniffen 1928:316). Around the lakes and swampland ducks, geese, mud hens, and swans were hunted by bow and arrow. Upland birds, including grouse, robin, blackbird, and woodpecker were also taken, for which the bow and arrow and miscellaneous traps and snares (see Garth 1953:135) were employed.

Streams and creeks of Atsugewi country provided pike, trout, and suckers

(Kniffen 1928:315). Horse Creek and its immediate tributaries were the most important,

63 if only minimally, to the Dixie Valley Apwaruke, followed by Eagle Lake and Pine Creek to the south (Kniffen 1928:316). Fish were caught by one or a combination of bone fishhooks tied with string and pole, spears, harpoons, gill nets, open-twined basketry traps, large dip nets, and by rock walled fish traps, into which fish would swim into, become blocked off upon entrance, and netted. Insect foods of value included yellow jacket nests, Jerusalem crickets, grasshoppers, salmon flies, red ant eggs (in the eastern area), and angleworms (Garth 1953:137).

As no one resource was reliable or abundant enough to solely rely upon, the

Atsugewi used a variety of plant foods. Of primary importance were epos roots, noted as plentiful east of Hat Creek around Government Lake, and especially in Dixie Valley

(Garth 1953:140), as well as sunflower and water lily seeds (Voegelin 1974:158). The

Apwaruke made great use of the epos which could be dried, pounded and stored for winter use (Golomshtok 1922:19-21). Other roots consumed included the qamash, several varieties of Brodiaea, Tiger Lilly, and wild onions.

Acorns were abundant in Atsuge territory and less so in Apwaruke, however,

Apwaruke still made trips into neighboring areas to gather the seed, or else traded for them (Garth 1953:137, 138; Golomshtok 1922:18). Pine nuts (grey and bole) were gathered and dried to be eaten or stored, and at least five varieties of sunflower seeds were gathered, skinned and ground with mano-metate (sunflowers were noted as plentiful on mountain slopes and in freshly burned areas). Other miscellaneous plant foods included wild parsley, clover, thistle, wild barley, mustard, chokecherry, and several berry types, as well as herbal/medicinal plants such as black moss, mullein, wormwood,

64 manzanita, juniper, Angelica root, pine gums and sugar (Garth 1953:140, 141;

Golomshtok 1922:19-22).

Tools, Weapons, Implements

For gathering seeds and vegetal resources burden baskets, seed beaters, and

“T-handled” digging sticks were used; Garth notes the Atsugewi still used the basketry hopper, “T-handled” digging stick, baskets, and “a few other things” during his field work in 1938 (Garth 1938b). In processing food stuffs, the mano, metate (millingstone), hopper mortar, pestle, and less-often, bedrock mortar were employed. The former of these utensils are herein described in greater detail, as they can be found in abundance in

Dixie Valley (specifically on the Fast Preserve) today (Thomas 2015).

Cooking utensils were kept in the cookhouse. Here a large flat-topped rock about a cubic foot in size was buried until nearly level with the ground, and on this the hopper basket was put. …One hand wielded the oblong pestle (jupu), and the other hand brushed particles to be pounded to the center of the hopper between descending blows of the pestle. …When a depression much more than an inch in depth had been worn in the rock on which the hopper sat, the rock was discarded and a new one obtained. There are many discarded mortar rocks of this sort in Dixie Valley. …The mano (tsawa) and metate (caskut) were used mostly for seeds. The user knelt at one end of the metate, which was flat on the ground before her, and pushed the mano across the metate. Sometimes roots were first pulverized in the basket hopper and then ground fine with the mano-metate. [Garth 1953:140]

Bows, Arrows, Points, Charmstones

Bows were broad, flat, and sinew-backed, three and a half to four feet long

(Golomshtok 1922:33), and typically made with yew wood; the best-made bows are credited to the Atsuge (Garth 1953:153). Arrows were either tipped with flint (obsidian or cryptocrystalline silicates), bone or wood, and fastened to a shaft of cane or rose wood.

Knives were thin biface blades from four to six inches long and up to three inches wide, and hafted to a wooden handle or wrapped in sinew. Garth (1953:154) reports “that some

65 men carried two or three knives of different sizes, and also that a woman might have a knife to use around camp although she would not carry it with her.”

Flints (the name applied by Garth’s informants to any flakable stone) were considered to possess inherent powers, with certain colors best suited for killing certain animals. Different colors and types were named and may be lucky or unlucky, depending on the individual. Varieties noted (Garth 1953:154) quartz, chert and jasper (white, mottled white, red, black, and tan), and obsidian (black being the best for killing deer).

Charmstones, unperforated stones less than 2 inches long by one inch in width, were common and possessed power like that of a guardian spirit, offering luck for hunting. The stones were naturally occurring. They were reported to be found frequently above Horse Creek north of Dixie Valley, where Coyote (in mythical times) had placed them there for the use of mankind (Garth 1953:192). One charmstone fitting Garth’s description was observed during the 2013-2014 archaeological survey of the Fast

Preserve (Thomas 2015).

Ownership, Wealth, Inheritance

Kroeber (1925:317) writes “private or family ownership in land or its products is denied by the Atsugewi except for a few claims to particular patches of edible roots or seeds, and to eagles’ nests, the right to take from which went from father to son.” Kniffen

(1928:317) suggests private ownership may have been more important, stating of the

Apwaruke “private ownership of fishing rights, ground hog holes, and eagle nests was respected.” Garth (1953:185) further emphasizes the importance of owning important trapping, fishing, hunting, root and other vegetable gathering areas. The ownership of

66 utilitarian items, beads, and the ability to conduct feasts were all signs of wealth (Garth

1978:237-238).

Of particular emphasis in Atsugewi society was industriousness. From an early age industriousness was instilled as a high value in children. A hard worker was a more capable provider for his family and more likely to yield wealth, status, and prestige

(Garth 1945:554). Apwaruke member Anna Barnes concurred with this point, stating that her people warned to “never let the sun catch you sleeping” but to be up and working

(personal communication, 2015).

Social Life

Kin were distinguished on the basis of sex, whereby cousins, aunts and uncles, and grandparents were all classed as siblings within each one’s generation. Garth

(1953:168-170) suggests such kin terms coupled with strong rules of avoidance (marriage taboos) is a function of a more complex marriage practice that assures marriage between blood relatives does not occur.

That marriage was strictly prohibited between relatives caused most partners to be acquired from outside one’s village. Golomshtok (1922:46) lists Big Maidu, Pit

River and Yana as groups with whom the Atsugewi would marry between. Marriages were rarely pre-arranged, and an ill-defined concept of bride-purchase existed to some extent (not all of Garth’s informants acknowledged this practice) (Garth 1953:163). Upon consummation, gifts were exchanged between families, a feast was arranged, and the male would work for the wife’s father for several months (Garth 1953:163, 164; Gifford

1922:84). In subsequent years, families might visit one another for extended periods of

67 time; such interactions served to preserve inter-village and intertribal relations through time.

Settlement and Village Organization

According to Park (1986:1), two to ten earth covered lodges in a cluster constituted permanent winter villages; Garth (1953:176) claims a village can consist of three to 25 or more earth-covered lodges and bark huts, and have anywhere from 25 to

100 inhabitants. From these villages hunting and food-gathering forays would occur.

Favored locations were near streams or springs, usually on a small rise or on the lower slopes of a mountain where there was good drainage. …a village not uncommonly consisted of several small house clusters, some as much as a quarter of a mile from any of the others. (Garth 1953:176)

Park (1986:1) further notes Atsuge villages being scattered along and nearby

Hat Creek, while Apwaruke villages were confined to Dixie Valley. This latter point is in contrast to Kniffen (1928:315), who suggests Apwaruke winter settlements occupied the major valley floors of the region (not strictly Dixie Valley), as protected sites within those depressions offered relief against harsh winters. (Perhaps Park [1986] refers specifically to ethnographic period settlements in the region, and Kniffen to a former, more distant time?)

Of the Achomawi and Atsugewi, Kniffen (1928:318) summarizes the general seasonal settlement strategy employed by the Pit River groups, stating “During the long, severe winters the Indians crowded into their earth covered houses in the protected valleys. In the summer they ranged far and wide to the extent of their areas, gathering roots or berries, fishing, or making the long trek to the north for obsidian.”

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Housing

Several house types are noted ethnographically for the Atsugewi, differing in style and construction according to needed function; these include winter houses, summer houses, sweat houses, camping huts, and menstrual huts.

Out of necessity for coping with harsh winter conditions, the most substantial of these housing structures was the winter semi-subterranean earthen lodge, or cimaha

(Dixon 1908a:211; Golomshtok 1922:9; Garth 1953:143).

An elliptical (oval) excavation was made, about four feet deep, averaging about 22 feet in length and 20 feet width. The central post was in about one-third the distance of one end. The three other posts at this end formed a triangle, supported by the central post. At the opposite end, two stout posts were set, forming and opening. Between the two ends, two rafters were placed. The central post was about 10 feet above the earth and 4 feet in the ground. The three others, forming the base, were 14 feet long. About five feet outside of the excavation, at the end of the opening, two more poles were set, forming with two first and two small rafters, a semi- underground passage. After that, a skeleton of posts surrounding the excavation, beginning 3 or 4 feet from the edge of it, was covered by lumber or thick cedar bark, forming the walls of the house, all covered with dirt. [Golomshtok 1922:9, 10]

During his research in Hat Creek and Dixie Valley, Garth (1953:143,144) observed house pit depressions and the remains of at least one winter house consistent with the above description, adding that two examples seen in Lost Creek had dirt walls reinforced by a facing of rock. His sketch of the house interiors exhibits a fire hearth directly adjacent to the center post with an opening/ventilator door facing outward to the east (his Dixie Valley informants claimed doors faced east in order that occupants could see the morning sun).

Garth also adds that a chief or rich man’s house may be much larger in size, fit for accommodating communal gatherings, dancing, or sweating, while typical winter houses could hold from one to six families, each being allotted their own sleeping space

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(Garth 1953:144). Golomshtok (1922:9) notes that smaller structures of this type (called

“plostoke” cimaha) may have been used for sleeping and/or sweating.

Bark houses, often inhabited by poorer families, were “either conical or had sloping sides coming together along a central ridge” (Garth 1953:144). The former

(djutti-iutti) had a circular base with four poles and cedar bark tied together at the apex, creating a conical to square-pyramid shaped structure capable of supporting two to three families (Golomshtok 1922:11, 12). Golomshtok (1922:12) notes that three families still lived in one of these structures at the time of his visit to Dixie Valley in the summer of

1922.

The latter structures (yowtinkai) were typically 15 feet in length by 12 feet wide, excavated roughly one and one-half feet, with four poles (one in each corner) with crosspieces of split poles and bark laid across the frame creating a “tent-like structure with round ends” (Garth 1953:144). These structures supported a fire hearth adjacent to a central vent and entry hole, with dirt piled along the exterior base to block wind and cold.

Smaller versions of this type were occasionally used for cookhouses.

A fourth house type, used as a summer camp structures, were “little more than circular enclosures of brush, juniper limbs, or rock, ten or fifteen feet across with an opening on the east side” (Garth 1953:144). It is suggested that this and the previous

(bark) house type comprise the residential structures represented on the Fast Preserve

(Thomas 2015).

Religion, Spirituality, Shamanism

Nature spirits, often of human form and personality characteristics, affected most aspects of daily life. Spirits, or guardians, were said to keep an individual, healthy,

70 lucky, and industrious, and could be lost during the course of a lifetime requiring song, dance, or a power quest to regain or acquire new power. Shamans, or doctors, possessed more numerous and powerful spirits than others, and would utilize poison, cure, curse, song, and dance when practicing his or her power in everyday life, during healing, or major events (e.g., warfare, ceremony). See (Gifford, Golomshtok, and especially Park) for detailed accounts of shamanism.

Mythology was a major element of Atsugewi culture, through which origin and creation stories, moral teachings would be transmitted. The importance of mythology is evident by the large numbers of which were provided to ethnographers, usually comprising an un-proportionate volume of a give ethnographic record. Although the cultural importance of mythology cannot be overstated, an exhaustive overview of specific myths are outside the scope of this thesis; any attempt to do so would result in a less-than-satisfactory summary. For adequate treatment of the subject and examples see:

Dixon (1908b:170-177); Golomshtok (1922:69-99); Park (1986:46-90); Wilson

(1997:63-109; 1998:111-132).

Important puberty rituals accompanied both sexes, in which strict food taboos and rules were observed. A girl’s puberty ceremony occurred over several weeks and was of particular importance. It included a series of three dances, singing, ceremonial paraphernalia, and quests into the surrounding mountains where they might build a fire, pile rocks, and sleep (Garth 1953:162; Golomshtok 1922:45). A woman’s dance was held after each menstruation until she is married (Golomshtok 1922:61).

A boy underwent a power quest at the time his voice first changed (Gifford

1922:78). At that time, he would be scolded by his father (or another good worker or

71 hunter) on how to conduct himself as a man (Garth 1953:162). He then embarked on a several days quest into the mountains during which he fasted and drank little water.

During his quest he would stack rocks and light brush fires (for others below to see), and visit mountain springs into which he would dive, hoping for a sign from a spirit or vision giving him guidance (Garth 1953:162; Gifford 1922:77-82; Golomshtok 1922:41-44). A boy might repeat this procedure for several years, or until married.

Death

Both cremation and burial were practiced. In the latter, a body was usually placed in a natural hole and covered in rocks (Gifford 1922:79; Golomshtok 1922:51).

Individuals were occasionally buried in the floor of an earth lodge along with personal belongings, after which the lodge was burned (Garth 1922:165).

Inter and Intra-Tribal Relations and Trade

Kniffen (1928:317) notes the Apwaruke were on “sufficiently good terms with most of their immediate neighbors to carry on a rather extensive interchange of commodities”; intermarriage and hence close family ties were also incentive for close relations with their neighbors (Garth 1953:131). Trade imports included salmon and disk beads from below Fall River, yew bows from Goose valley and acorns from the Atsuge.

Exports included roots, meat, hides, and furs. Coiled baskets, skins, beads, bows, furs, and clamshell disc beads were obtained through the Maidu, of whom were important trade partners with the Atsugewi (Garth 1953:183). By the 1870s, the Paiute began to trade buckskins, red ochre, glass beads, guns, and olivella beads to the Atsugewi in exchange for bows, baskets, and some beads (Garth 1953:183). In most cases, items were

72 exchanged in the form of reciprocal gift exchanges, typically at a Big Time (Garth

1953:183).

Trade between the Atsuge and Apwaruke, as well as inter-village exchange of goods (obsidian, nets, baskets, etc.) were always extensive and critical in supplying individuals and groups with the specialty crafts and valued resources of the other’s. Trade and social relations were made during social gatherings such (sweat dances, feasts) during which villages and other tribes might come together (Garth 1978:238, 239).

According to Garth (1953:131), the Yana, Maidu, Achomawi and Atsugewi groups cooperated in the exploitation of their lands (e.g., fishing access, root digging grounds, acorn crops). Such relationships provided insurance in years of uncertain food supply.

Warfare

The ethnographic record indicates that in times leading up to the contact era

(mid-1800s) inter and intra-tribal conflict was frequent. It is apparent that those conflicts did not necessarily put the Apwaruke permanently against one group. For example,

Kniffen (1928:317) reports the Apwaruke were on friendly terms with the Atsuge, Paiute, and lower Achomawi, while hostile relations were reported among the upper Achomawi, occasionally the Maidu, and especially the Modoc (Kniffen 1928:317). Park (1986:3) reports the Achomawi were amicable with most tribes, especially the Achomawi (with whom they were allies), and the neighboring Maidu, and friendly but not close with the

Northern Paiute and Wintun tribes. Garth (1953:180) lists multiple accounts of conflict with Maidu, Achomawi, Atsuge, and Klamath, claiming the Klamath and Paiute as the worst enemies to the Apwaruke. By all accounts, the Modoc and Klamath are considered great enemies, especially after those groups had acquired the horse.

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One response to the high frequency of warfare during the era leading up to and into the ethnographic period that is of particular interest to this thesis, involves the construction of rock fortresses located at or close by village settlements. Garth

(1953:181) notes two fortified camps located in Dixie Valley, one on Coyote Mountain

(also noted by Kniffen 1928:317) and a second up Russell Dairy canyon. The authors reported the camps to contain “numerous enclosures of rock” or stone house walls, to which families would retreat when warfare was evident. Park (1986:44) writes: “They

[the Atsugewi] made small rock corrals far away from their houses. When they could, the men fought from these shelters and the women hid in them. They were very small and were round.” Garth (1953:181) alludes to an additional rock fortification used to fend off soldiers east of Hat Creek near Government Lake.

An otherwise scant body of reference to the use of rock structures (i.e. circles, enclosures, rings) in the ethnographic record for the Atsugewi is curious, especially considering the number of these features present on sites throughout the region (Thomas

2015).

Chapter Summary

This chapter has synthesized data on the ethnographic Atsugewi with a focus on the Dixie Valley Apwaruke. Descriptions of general Atsugewi life ways and practices provide a foundation for analyzing culture change through time when compared with pre- contact cultural descriptions (such as those derived from archaeological records) through to colonial and post-colonial culture ways as described in early ethnographies, archival, and historical records. In acknowledging the time and contexts in which ethnographic

74 data used herein were gathered, these descriptions are used with the understanding that they depict but an approximation of Atsugewi lifeways prior to Euroamerican contact.

CHAPTER V

HISTORICAL OVERVIEW FOR THE

DIXIE VALLEY AND GREATER PIT

RIVER REGION (1827-1887)

This chapter provides a historical synthesis for the Dixie Valley vicinity and broader Pit River region, derived from ethnographic, archaeological and archival resources from which a context for contact-era interactions between Euroamerican and

Native American populations can be established. It is arranged in three sections.

Section one establishes the backdrop to which state and national level Indian policies occurred during the 19th Century. Section two addresses the succession of events that occurred in the Pit River region that led to the extermination, protection, removal, and eventual attempt at assimilation of the indigenous population. Section three addresses those same events discussed in section two (extermination, removal, assimilation), specific to the Dixie Valley region.

Together, with the ethnographic overview provided in the previous chapter, these histories establish a foundation and context for understanding pre and post-contact indigenous life ways. They also illuminate the broader historical circumstances that occurred at the state, regional, and local level which led to the social, political, and economic changes that the Dixie Valley Apwaruke underwent toward the turn of the 20th century.

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A Broader Context: Extermination and Removal in California (1848-1887)

The popular American ideology of the 19th Century was unanimous: Native

American culture and tradition was inferior to that of the Euroamerican. Deep-seated conceptions born in ideals of social evolutionism placed Europeans at the apex of progress and civilization, whereas non-European peoples were considered barbaric and sub-human (Conn 2004:32). As Native Americans were long perceived as impediments to the expansion of Western civilization, extermination and removal became the popular means for solving the “Indian problem.” The notion of the “savage Indian” helped to justify, if not encourage, the displacement, murder, and discrimination of Native peoples.

From the time gold was discovered in California in 1848 to the inception of the Dawes Act in 1887, federal, state, and county governments embraced policies of extermination and removal with the establishment of reservations. In the former, Native peoples involved in or believed guilty of hostile acts perpetrated against Euroamerican settlers were murdered by volunteer, state, or federal militia. In the latter, a select number of tribes were designated federal lands for tribal use.

Reservations were initially conceived as safe havens for Native peoples.

Specific localities were designated where individuals could live and work under government supervision, earn living wages, and minimize conflict with Euroamerican settlers. Unimpeded, settlers could then continue their spread across the California landscape, homesteading its fertile valleys and timber-rich forests, mining for precious metals and trapping fur-bearing animals along its many interior waterways, supplying the demands of a burgeoning Western population.

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The realities of reservation life proved far from those (presumably) imagined by Congress. Rather than providing a safe haven for displaced peoples, reservations such as the Round Valley Indian Reservation near Covelo, California more closely resembled death camps, wherein varied and unrelated tribes of Northern California were forced to live and work (Wilson 1997:177). Government rations were minimal and the tools and equipment necessary to perform work were insufficient. Federal agents operated by violence and discrimination to maintain an institution of forced labor through indentured service (Bauer 2009:30-57).

As a result of federal and state policies of 1850-1887, Native peoples were at once displaced and dispossessed. Individuals struggled to adjust to new, if not redefined, geographic locations, and to foreign ideals of Western civilization. Spiritually, physically, and emotionally broken, those unwilling or unable to successfully adapt or remain clear of Euroamerican contact risked extermination. In less than three decades following the

Gold Rush, California’s indigenous population was reduced by an estimated 80,000 individuals (Merriam 1905:599). Come the 1880s, Congress recognized a change of policy was due. Hence, a more humane solution to the perceived Indian problem was imagined: assimilation.

The following sections review this period in California’s history on a more localized scale, providing context for the social and political atmosphere that existed in the Dixie Valley and broader Pit River region leading up to the Allotment era.

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Contact, Extermination and Removal in the Pit River Region (1827-1887)

The first reported Euroamerican traveler through Pit River country was trapper of the Hudson’s Bay Company in 1827-1828, followed by fur trappers throughout the 1930’s, including John Work (1832, 1833), Ewing Young (1833),

Thomas McKay, and Stephen F. Menk (1836) (Voegelin 1974:19, 23, 31-33). It was during these initial encounters that malaria-stricken trappers of John Work’s brigade would transfer the epidemic to local indigenous populations, sparking the first great contact-related indigenous population decline in northeastern California (Voegelin

1974:27).

By the 1850s, gold prospectors scoured the area with little success owing the geologic make-up of the region. Settlers meanwhile, began permanently inhabiting the region’s many valleys and river basins suitable for agriculture, severely restricting the mobility of Pit River groups and their access to traditional resource areas. The character of the terrain throughout the Pit River watershed is largely to credit for its late, albeit sparse, settlement by Euroamericans, and for the relatively high level of cultural preservation afforded there later in time compared to other parts of the state (Garth

1978:243; Kroeber 1925:316). This is especially true for the Apwaruke, whose high desert, mostly rocky, barren and dry territory was with few exceptions uninviting toward the pursuits of incoming settlers. Still, prolonged cultural preservation was not strictly the work of landscape. Hardships posed by the geographical character of the region were quickly exacerbated by negative encounters with the indigenous population, hindering

Euroamerican settlement efforts for upwards of half a century.

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By the mid-1850s, tensions between indigenous and Euroamerican communities mounted, causing Euroamerican settlers to request military reinforcement for the protection for and against Native peoples. Notable among these early conflicts was an attack during the winter of 1855-1856 in which several settlers were murdered in the Fall River valley by Pit Rivers. Among the casualties was settler Harry Lockhart.

Harry’s brother, Sam Lockhart, vowed to avenge his brother’s death, and soon after acquired a reputation as a confirmed Indian killer (Neasham 1957:60).

In the wake of increasing conflict, soldiers of the Companies D and E of the

4th U.S. Infantry were deployed to the region to secure the Pit River ferry and Lockhart wagon roads from further indigenous assault (Connolly 2006:96). Commander of

Company D, First Lieutenant , was among those deployed. Crook would perpetrate multiple deadly attacks on the Pit River people in the months following his arrival (Connolly 2006:97; Neasham 1957:47). Hostilities continued to escalate despite military presence, until plans for a permanent military fort in the valley were implemented. By late 1857, the construction of Fort Crook was underway.

After reviewing official correspondence letters from officers at Fort Crook during the late 1850s, Connolly (2006:165) suggests that with the exception of Lieutenant

Crook’s hostile tenure in the valley, relations between settlers, soldiers, and the Native population were considerably benign during the first years following the fort’s construction. Connolly postulates that the region’s indigenous population even benefited from the Fort’s presence, as soldiers helped moderate conflict between indigenous and emigrant populations.

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The Fort’s presence has also been suggested to have helped stave off raids by the Modoc and Klamath tribes upon the Pit Rivers during the 1850s-1870s (Voegelin

1974: 176, 202). Upon acquiring horses and rifles, the feared northeasterly tribes routinely raided Pit River country to collect slaves for trade at The Dalles, and for sale to

Willamette Valley farmers in . An Achomawi leader later stated the arrival of Fort

Crook soldiers was a good thing for the local Pit River, as “the Modocs had acquired rifles and were threatening the Achumawi with extinction” (Fall River Tidings, February

25, 1944, p. 13 in Voegelin 1974:202).

The winter of 1858 saw Pit River peoples take residence outside the fort quarters, relinquishing themselves for protection from Indian hunters, and accepting winter rations of food. Realizing that cattle theft by the Natives was foremost a result of starving and desperate conditions, commanders had begun issuing limited food rations to those camped near the fort, helping to stave off starvation (Connolly 2006:104, 107;

Neasham 1957:58).

Regular rationing of food helped keep peace in the region until hostilities were renewed following the deaths of four settlers by Natives. Amongst those slain was

Napolean Elroy, owner of a toll bridge built across the Pit River below the town of Fall

City (present day Fall River Mills) (Connolly 2006:109; Neasham 1957:59). Independent of military sanctions, an Indian hunting party known as the Pit River Rangers was assembled to avenge the assaults. The party was organized by Frank McElroy, brother to the slain Napolean McElroy. Also included was Sam Lockhart, still staunch on avenging his own brother’s death the winter prior (Connolly 2006:110). On September 3, 1859, the

Pit River Rangers made an early morning attack on a large summer camp near Rolf’s

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Ranch on Beaver Creek outside of Fall River Valley, where several Natives were being employed by the ranch owner. An estimated 90 Achomawi and Atsugewi, mostly woman, children, and elderly, and unrelated to the pioneer deaths and cattle thefts of the preceding months, were murdered (Connolly 2006:111; Neasham 1957:60).

Before commanders at Fort Crook could respond to the massacre by the Pit

River Rangers, General William Kibbe and 90 volunteers for the California State Militia

(known as “Kibbe’s Guards”) were dispatched to the region by the California State

Governor to prevent further conflict (Neasham 1957:61). Kibbe’s Guards, already notorious Indian killers, operated a state-authorized campaign of extermination and removal into 1873. Natives not killed by private Indian hunting parties, Kibbe’s Guards, or starvation, were subject to relocation to the Round Valley Indian Reservation in

Covelo, CA. Others sought exile in the vast and treacherous lava country within and about the region, living as renegades while attempting to continue traditional life ways amidst rapid cultural and physical transformations to their homeland.

Alluding to the hostilities and feelings of resentment held by Euroamerican settlers toward the Native population, an excerpt from the Shasta County Courier dated

September 28, 1867 reads:

INDIAN AFFAIRS. The permanent residents and most thoughtful portion of the people of this section of the state have long felt that the establishment of an Indian reservation somewhere in this county was a matter of great necessity, and a measure required not only for the protection of the Indians but for the security of the lives and property of the white population.

The valleys and fisheries of which these Indians formerly procured their sustenance are now taken from them and appropriated for the use of white settlers and they are driven from their former homes and hunting grounds into the mountains where they can obtain but a scanty subsistence.

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The consequence is that Indians regard white settlers as trespassers and enemies and steal, burn, and destroy their property and murder women and children when a safe and favorable opportunity occurs. And the whites in order to punish the authors of these outrages, make counter raids upon the Indians, thereby keeping up a constant and destructive warfare. [in Smith 1995:121]

The ultimate reason a reservation was not provided for the Pit Rivers within their homeland is unknown. The idea of an Indian reservation in the Fall River Valley had long been in circulation, as reservations were known to provide a location where indigenous groups could be centralized and regulated, minimizing conflict with settlers and opening up land for agriculture and ranching. Despite recommendation from Indian

Agent A. E. Stevenson in 1857 for a reservation in the Fall River Valley, approval was never granted by the Indian Department or the U.S. Senate (Wilson 1997:166, 167).

Instead, settlers and federal and state militia saw fit that those surviving Natives reluctant to shed traditional life ways be relocated to a reservation already in operation.

Beginning in 1859, Kibbe’s Guards systematically gathered Natives at Fort

Crook to await forced relocation out of Pit River country (Garth 1978:243; Wilson

1997:146). Men, women, and children were forcibly marched more than 70 miles to Red

Bluff, loaded onto boats, and dispatched south along the to Rancho

Chico. From Chico, peoples were marched to the Round Valley Indian Reservation near

Covelo, or sent still further south to the Tejon Reservation in Southern California (Wilson

1997:146).

Hundreds of Pit River peoples were murdered or died as a result of the brutality and harsh conditions of removal (Wilson 1997:158). Survivors found themselves in foreign places beside peoples of different culture and language, each subject to the agenda of colonial domination. In time, some escaped back to the Pit River

83 country to reconnect with surviving family and adapt to the radically shifting physical, cultural, and political landscapes of their homeland.

Statewide, the effects of Indian extermination and removal policies in

California resulted in a reduction of the indigenous population from approximately

100,000 in 1849 to an estimated 20,500 by 1880 (Merriam 1905:599). The perceived

“Indian Problem” in northeastern California diminished following events of the 1850s and 1860s. Thereafter, Natives on and off reservations were forced to accept that

Euroamerican settlement was to be permanent, thus revealing a new chapter in California

Indian history oriented toward the shedding of traditional life ways in exchange for

Western civilization.

The story of the Achomawi and Atsugewi following Euroamerican contact is one of dispossession through extermination, dislocation, and relocation. The following section describes the period of emigrant contact and assimilation that ensued in the Dixie

Valley region from the first documented interactions with the Apwaruke in 1848 up to the turn of the 20th century. Various literatures, land records, and census data are used to highlight land ownership, living conditions, and Native American-Euroamerican labor relations in Dixie Valley, beginning in 1869.

Euroamerican Contact and Settlement in Dixie Valley and Vicinity (1848-1907)

Used by gold-fevered emigrants flooding into the state beginning in 1848, the

Lassen Emigrant Trail passed within less than three miles of the western periphery of

Dixie Valley proper, as the trail took on a southwesterly trajectory toward the Sierra

Nevada Mountain Range (Fairfield 1916:5; Neasham 1974:188). The trail brought a flood

84 of emigrants, wagons, oxen, horses, cattle, and goods into remote areas of California that had previously hosted little, if any, Euroamerican presence. In August of 1848 alone, an estimated 10,000-20,000 emigrants embarked upon the Lassen Trail (Voegelin 1974:47).

The earliest direct conflicts between Western emigrants and Dixie Valley Apwaruke likely occurred at this time.

In the fall of 1850, Goldsborough Bruff described four encounters with indigenous peoples within the vicinity of Dixie Valley. The valley was not yet settled or named at the time of Bruff’s report. The first incident involved the death of a prospector at the hands of Native peoples, followed by a non-eventful sighting of two individuals hunting squirrels (Read and Gaines 1944: 830-831, interpreted by Voegelin 1974:61).

Bruff personally encountered “Indians” (presumably Apwaruke) in the upper (northern) part of Dixie Valley on consecutive days, September 19 and 20, of 1850. In the latter sighting, Bruff describes “a beautiful clear spring under a tree, and a bark lodge built over it, by the Indians, in order to shoot the deer or rabbit who came to drink” (Read and

Gaines 1944:847, 848, interpreted by Voegelin 1974:61).

Fairfield (1916:180) describes two additional events in which emigrant wagons were captured, plundered, and destroyed in the northern vicinity of Dixie Valley.

One of these clashes prompted retaliation by emigrants and soldiers dispatched from Fort

Crook, resulting in the death of several Pit Rivers thought to be linked to the assault. A third and better-known conflict occurred on September 3, 1859, at Beaver Creek

(mentioned in the previous section), roughly 10 miles from Dixie Valley proper in which an estimated 90 Achomawi and Atsugewi were murdered in a surprise attack by the Pit

85

River Rangers (a local “Indian hunting party”) (Connolly 2006:111; Neasham 1957:60;

Fairfield 1916:180).

As Dixie Valley is located at the remote southeastern periphery of the Pit

River region, it was spared permanent Euroamerican settlement longer than many neighboring settlements. Despite brief but heavy traffic of the nearby Lassen Trail it is likely the valley and its direct vicinity remained occupied by Apwaruke peoples at least until its settlement by emigrants in 1869; prolonged interactions with Euroamericans in the valley would have been minimal until that time. This is evident by the following settler account from the summer of 1868:

This summer William J. Seagraves went through Dixie valley with a prospecting party. There were no settlers in the valley at that time and probably it was not named. The sight of a band of wild-looking Indians caused them to move out of that neighborhood instead of staying there to prospect as they intended to do. James Coen says that two men, father and son, named Graves were in the valley of the same name this year. [Fairfield 1916:441]

According to Fairfield (1916:467), Dixie Valley was first settled by

Euroamerican pioneers George W. Long, H. Carson Wright, J. W. Tuttle, R. F. Gates and a Mr. McMillan in late fall of 1869 the following year. Land was claimed and log cabins were built, presumably housing the pioneers in the valley throughout the winter of that first year. Come 1870, pioneers John D. Kelley and wife, Hiram Winchel, Daniel Cramer,

Charles Cramer, and George Riddle would also settle in the valley, followed by James P.

Eldridge, his wife, and a Mr. Sharp by 1871. Land was claimed, additional cabins were constructed, hay was grown, and cattle and horse grazing activities that were to become the staple economic pursuit within the region were begun (Fairfield 1916:468).

86

Weigand (1996:117) attributes the settling of Dixie Valley to the Reaves family. By this account brothers James, Thomas, Andrew and Andrew’s wife Anna arrived in Dixie Valley from Illinois in 1873. George Riddle, Rosco Gates and George

Snaden are also mentioned to have homesteaded 160 acre allotments at the West end of the valley at this time. It is apparent Weigand’s figures are derived exclusively from land records, indicating the dates in which official land claims were legally recognized rather than the time initial settlement on those lands occurred. It can be presumed that Dixie

Valley had been settled by homesteaders prior to those figures indicated, circa 1870, consistent with Fairfield (1916).

Soon after their arrival, settlers drained much of the valley’s vast interior swamp, creating arable land for hay (Weigand 1996:117). The Reaves brothers raised sheep, cattle and competitive running horses within the valley and surrounding hills. In

1890, David Reaves built a large, white ranch house that would become a landmark within Dixie Valley. The quarters provided lodging for the ranch’s owners and early on contained two dining rooms segregated for Euroamerican and Native use; the structure remains standing as of 2015.

In addition to the “wild-looking Indians” noted by prospectors in the summer of 1868, a Native presence was also indicated by the naming of Indian Mountain overlooking the valley’s eastern edge. Weigand (1996:117) writes that the mountain is so-called owing its use as “a lookout by Indians from which they watched white trespassers take over their hunting grounds and kill their game.” These accounts, as well as impressions had by the various ethnographic works of the 1920s and 1930s, are suggestive that Dixie Valley and its vicinity were continuously occupied by Apwaruke

87 peoples throughout the 19th century, despite the sweeping changes wrought by

Euroamerican contact that ensued during those years.

As extermination and removal efforts subsided into the late 1870s, Dixie

Valley Apwaruke families became increasingly involved with ranch operations in the valley. Notwithstanding resentment held by Natives throughout the Pit River region toward intruding settlers, they became drawn to ranches for employment, hence acquiring

Western food, clothing, guns and horses, and setting in motion a shift from traditional social order, communal living, and settlement practices, to one of independent acquisition of wealth and property (Macgregor 1936:8).

At least some traditional settlements and village sites were occupied in the

Dixie Valley region late into the 19th century Garth (1953:177). Intertribal relations in the region also continued well after contact; notable within the historical record are the

Modoc Indian raids on the Pit Rivers during the 1850s-1870s following the former’s acquisition of the horse and rifle. Other conflicts of this period specific to Dixie Valley are described by Garth (1953:180, 181).

A clash between the Big Meadow Indians (Maidu) and Dixie Valley

Apwaruke was noted as late as 1888 in the following excerpt from the Republican Free

Press newspaper (dated July 7, 1888):

FROM BURGETVILLE …It was reported here this week among the Indians that the Big Meadow Indians had made a raid into Dixie Valley and killed three bucks and a squaw. They have been quarrelling for years, and such a finale was not unexpected here. The reds here were greatly excited as they did not know but what their turn might not come next . . .. [in Smith 1995:162]

Weigand (1996:118,119) and Federal census data of 1900 indicate Indian labor was an important part of ranch operations by the turn of the 20th century.

88

Indigenous laborers were hired by Dixie ranch owners during the summer months to hay the fields and stack it by hand. The Native families and their teams migrated to the valley from Fall River, Hat Creek, Grasshopper Valley, and Big Valley erecting camps at the springs west of the Reaves’ ranch house. Come winter, most Natives (about 30 families) would leave Dixie Valley in a large caravan for their respective winter homes (Weigand

1996:118, 119). After 1900, Apwaruke presence in Dixie Valley became evermore entangled in the sphere of influence cast by the United States Congress as Natives in the region were made land owners by the federal government, stemming from the 1887

Dawes Allotment Act (see Chapter VI).

Chapter Summary

This chapter has synthesized the period of early Euroamerican contact and settlement at the state (California), regional (Pit River), and local (Dixie Valley) level, as each occurred from roughly 1827-1907. The synthesis has provided a historical context for Euroamerican and Native American relations during that time, including detailed contact-era accounts specific to the Dixie Valley region. The following chapter explores the period of acculturation and assimilation (1887-1934+) as defined by the implementation of the Dawes Allotment Act of 1887.

CHAPTER VI

EFFECTS OF THE DAWES ALLOTMENT

ACT IN DIXIE VALLEY, NORTHEAST

CALIFORNIA

In 1887, the United States Congress passed the Dawes Allotment Act, putting into process what would be described by David H. Thomas (2000:680) as "the single most disastrous piece of legislation ever perpetrated on Indian people." The Act provided legal justification for the United States government to obtain, divide, sell, develop, and grant lands previously held by Native American peoples. This section explores the creation, implementation, and effects that federal policy, namely the Dawes Act, had on

Pit River peoples from the late 19th Century to the present. A discussion describing the

Act and its implementation will be followed by a case study of Indian land allotments based in Dixie Valley that seeks to explain how one geographical locale transformed from predominantly Native American lands to entirely private and federally owned lands in half of a century. In conjunction with the previous chapter, this historical account reveals the effects federal policies have had on the social and economic existence of

California Native peoples through time.

The Allotment Era: 1887-1934

In 1881, the House of Representatives discontinued funding of Indian treaty obligations ratified by the Senate (Getches et al. 1979:68). This meant Indian affairs

89 90 would henceforth be governed by Acts of Congress. In 1887, the General Allotment Act, or Dawes Act, was officially signed into law by Congress marking the start of a new era in national Indian policy.

The Dawes Act provided 160-acre land parcels to every Indian head of household, 80 acres to those single and over the age of 18, 80 acres to orphans less than age 18, and 40 acres to all others less than 18 years of age. Allotments were to be held in trust by the federal government for 25 years with four years allowed for individuals to make allotment selections once land had been opened to a particular tribe. Thereafter, government officials were to assign allotments at the discretion of the Secretary of the

Interior. Finally, the Act promised citizenship to those who abandoned traditional tribal living, adopting instead the ways of Western civilization (Getches et al. 1979:69).

By design, the Dawes Act was intended to accomplish multiple objectives. It was believed private ownership of land would provide Native peoples a path toward civilization, and hence, citizenship (McDonnell 1991:1); and that ownership and the adoption of an agricultural lifestyle would lead to self-sufficiency (self-sufficiency being the key to civilization and alternative to traditional, communal living). Beyond providing a steadfast path to civilization, it was imagined self-sufficiency would protect Native interests from unscrupulous Euro-Americans, as they would be better equipped with the necessary social and economic skills to compete in a Western capitalist "civilized" world.

Perceived ancillary benefits of the allotment policy included the belief that governments would save money as the costs of social welfare required of reservation living would cease, and that allotting lands formerly reserved for tribal interests would result in surplus

91 parcels to be sold as fee patents to industrious non-Indians (Carlson 1981:169;

McDonnell 1991:1).

Reservation and Public Domain Trust Parcels

Two types of Trust allotments were granted under the Dawes Act: reservation trust parcels and public domain trust parcels (Nakamura and Harris 1997:49). Reservation trust parcels were granted to Native Americans living on federally recognized reservations and carved from existing reservation lands. Reservations were reduced to grids of 160 acre parcels from which un-allotted or surplus parcels became subject to private purchase (McDonnell 1991:50). From 1887 to 1934 during which the Allotment policy remained active, Indian lands throughout the United States were reduced from 138 million to 52 million acres (Banner 2005:285).

Public domain parcels were the second type of parcel allotted under the

Dawes Act. Such parcels were appropriated to landless individuals not associated with a reservation who could, hypothetically, select allotments of interest from the public domain in order that they could put the land to use (e.g., agriculture, cattle grazing, timber harvest) (Nakamura and Harris 1997:49). Contrary to the Act's design, such decisions were, in reality, hinged upon the discretion of General Land Office surveys that qualified public allotments according to their use-value. Lands open for allotment were generally lacking mineral and timber resources of value, reserving such lands, by way of

Federal Reservation, for fee patent titles (i.e., lands purchased subject to taxation). Due to such circumstances, it was commonplace that public domain parcels were granted too late in time after Euroamerican settlers had claimed those lands best suited for agriculture,

92 thereby leaving most Native Americans with land of no utilitarian value (Nakamura and

Harris 1997: 50; Smith 1995:163).

On May 8, 1906, an amendment to the Dawes Act was passed, known as the

Burke Act (34 Stat. 182). The Burke Act issued the Secretary of Interior the discretion to distinguish "competent and capable" land owning Natives (Kappler 1913:182). Those deemed capable landowners (that is, those who had successfully adopted a civilized lifestyle and displayed the capacity to live independently by Western standards) could have their trust allotments converted to simple fee patent. The land was then subject to taxation and free for the Native owner to do with (e.g., sell or lease out) as (s)he pleased

(Kappler 1913:182).

By the 1930s, a change in policy was long overdue. The failure of the Dawes

Allotment Act was officially recognized in the Merriam Report of 1928, a survey authorized to investigate American Indian living conditions on Reservations (e.g., allotment conditions) (Meriam 1928; Parman and Meriam 1982:253, 254). This led to the signing of the Indian Reorganization Act (IRA) in 1934. IRA aimed to reform the allotment policy of the proceeding 47 years. Surplus public domain lands were offered to tribal reservations, funds were afforded to help with acquiring new lands, with health and education, living costs, and with resources necessary to succeed economically (see: The

Indian Reorganization Act 1934; Thomas 2000:191).

Despite the shortcomings of the initial implementation of the Dawes

Allotment Act, Middleton (2008:518) explains that allotment lands in California are especially important due to the state's history of failed treaty policies. Most tribal groups remained landless or limited to a very few catch-all reservations, making the land

93 allotment policy the first legal recognition of many California Natives by the federal government. Middleton emphasizes how the hidden history of the rapid divestiture of allotment lands has had important consequences for California Indian political identity and access to cultural and natural resources through time and into the present.

Allotment Era in Dixie Valley, Northeastern California

The following information has been compiled using historic archival documents, including General Land Office maps, census data, and land deed notes and records. Documents were retrieved from the National Archives and Records

Administration (NARA) Office located in San Bruno, CA, Special Collections at

California State University, Chico, and from online census information compiled from

NARA microfilm publications. The information obtained from these records will be presented below, roughly in chronological order, to reveal insight into a particular aspect of Atsugewi life in Dixie Valley during the allotment era. This narrative is necessarily incomplete, but should illuminate a history hereto untold.

Following removal to the Round Valley Reservation, most those Pit River peoples having survived the displacement soon after returned to their homelands (Garth

(1978:243; Macgregor 1936:3). Attempts to resume traditional cultural practices were made, but slowly dissolved as ancient customs, hunting, gathering, and fishing practices were abandoned for employment on ranches. Independence at both the individual and family level promptly resulted in the dissolution of communal tribal governance and settlement. Ultimately, less than three decades following their removal from Pit River

94 territory, Atsugewi peoples began taking up allotment in Hat Creek and Dixie Valley

(Garth 1978:243). See Figure 3, DV allot Map.

Smith (1995:163) reports Indian allotment on the public domain began in

Northeastern California in the 1890s, at which time 650 claims were made to the Redding land office district. It is expected that Indian allotments in Dixie Valley were initially applied for at this time, yet it is unclear the exact year(s) or circumstances that made the land acquisitions official. For example, General Land Office Records indicate 36 Indian allotments were assigned in 1907; C. E. Kelsey's report of 1907 has Dixie Valley

Apwaruke owning land by 1905-1906; and Macgregor's (1936:9) report to the

Sacramento Bureau of Indian Affairs states the Pit Rivers began to receive allotments

"about 1906" (General Land Office Records N.d.a; N.d.b; N.d.c; N.d.d; N.d.e; N.d.f;

N.d.g; N.d.h; N.d.i).

The reason trust patents were made official 20 years after the Dawes Act was implemented is unknown. It is possible, but unlikely, that Indian trust allotments were only granted after those public domain lands in and around Dixie Valley unclaimed by homesteaders were designated as National Forest Reserve land in 1904 (Roberts

1980:119); note that both Indian trust allotments and Forest Reserve lands are comprised of lands from the public domain. As several Indian allotments in the valley were surrounded by Forest Reserve lands, it is more likely those allotments had been applied for by their Indian allottees several years prior to 1907, as in the estate of Hasey Johnson discussed in the following section. Johnson's estate, Sus 229, was initiated in 1893, allotted in 1897, and officially granted in 1907. Assuming other allottees experienced similar lag-time between lands transactions, other Dixie Valley Indian allotments would

N 1 Mile

Figure 3. Map showing all Dixie Valley region Indian allotments (yellow) granted between 1907-1932 (including Indian Homestead Trust Patent #052735, issued 2/4/1890). See Appendix B for complete record. 95

96 likewise have been spared being absorbed by Forest Reserve lands instated in 1904 and still received recognition in the 1905-1906 Kelsey survey. It is further notable that in

1906, Congress (under pressure from reformers) authorized the purchase of trust land for the "landless Indians of California" (Schneider 2010:430). This action helped restore federal protection of Indian land while federally acknowledging non-reservation Native communities (Schneider 2010:430). This research cannot definitively connect these two events, however, it is possible the timing of dispersal for Dixie Valley trust patents was related to this authorization.

It is notable that a majority of allotments occupied hilly, mountainous, or otherwise undesirable terrain, rocky, barren of water, and not suitable for living or effective agricultural pursuits. This is in part a product of timing, being Indian allotments in the region were assigned after desirable lands (i.e., those suited for economic development) had been absorbed by non-Native homesteaders and in part owing the

Dixie Valley region contained excess public domain lands of otherwise little economic value to federal, state, or private endeavors. Disadvantaged by second and third rate land options, cultural barriers (e.g., language, world view, values) and institutional neglect on the part of the United States Congress and those assigned to implement the Dawes Act, the Apwaruke were doomed for decades of hardship.

Adapting to a Changed World: Acculturation and Living Conditions During the Allotment Era in Dixie Valley

The following discussion draws from a 1921 medical board survey report, a

1936 Bureau of Indian Affairs investigation report, and supplementary data from

97 ethnographic monographs and historical census and land records in order to demonstrate allotment era conditions documented in Dixie Valley and the greater Pit River region.

The C.E. Kelsey Report: Census of California Indian Tribes, 1900-1907.

The Kelsey report of 1900-1907, produced by special Indian agent C. E.

Kelsey, is a survey of California Natives by county and settlement, and lists census data pertaining to reservation and non-reservation Natives, including land owning and non- land owning individuals. Therein, the Dixie Valley Apwaruke population at the 1900

Census indicates 59 individuals (Kelsey 1907:4). In his Schedule Showing Non-

Reservation Indians of the Years 1905-1906 (1907:111), 15 Apwaruke families comprised of 59 persons are reported living in Dixie Valley. Of those families, 13 were land owning and two had no land to their name.

The Gillihan and Shaffer Report (1921)

Gillihan and Shaffer (1921:8, 9) document 12 families consisting of 44 persons living in Dixie Valley in early spring of 1921. It is indicated that this number is short additional families that would have resided within the Valley during winter months, but had already left on their summer migrations. Of 44 persons, 11 cases of small pox and

1 case of trachoma were reported. Additional diseases were noted throughout the region, including tuberculosis, pneumonia, female pelvic disease, acute malaria, heart conditions, and rheumatism (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:55, 56, 58).

It was determined there was an urgent need for medical and surgical attention among Native peoples of the region, as medical neglect was continually resulting in unnecessary deaths and debilitating conditions. Those who were sick were often too poor

98 to afford professional care, unable to travel to attain such care, or were altogether refused care (e.g., Modoc County hospital reportedly refused to receive and treat Natives). In other cases, sick individuals were denied potentially life-saving treatment due to lack of funds even after pleading to Indian agents for assistance (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:47,

58). See Gillihan and Shaffer (1921:45-50) for specific examples of neglect by those officials employed to protect the rights and livelihood of Native American peoples.

In matters of education, Native children rarely continued past sixth grade, if education was attained at all (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:60). Children were generally trained for domestic work or vocational work (typically farming) according to sex. Few spoke complete English, and even fewer could write, as Atsugewi remained the primary language spoken by Indians of Dixie Valley into the 1920s. It was suggested by the nurses that the Native's imperfect understanding of the written and spoken English language was a primary factor in his or her problems (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:60). One

Pit River informant reported that he unknowingly provided a dishonest Euroamerican man his thumbprint (in lieu of written signature) for a land transfer deed, believing it to be a lease agreement. He would discover the following year that his thumbprint had actually surrendered all legal rights to his property (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:60).

Gillihan and Shaffer (1921:11) declared Indian land holding policies to be the fundamental problem plaguing Natives of Northeastern California. Parcels allotted through the Dawes Act were invariably located on lands unsuited for farming, restricted from water, inconveniently accessed, and situated upon rocky hills adjacent to the more desirable lands of the valley basins previously claimed by Euroamerican homesteaders.

Of the 150 allotments visited during the survey, most were of such despair that they were

99 deemed useless and never visited; others required years of labor before yielding even minimal agricultural product. Those lands allotted that were of value were too often jumped by Euroamerican settlers, or else the owner was compelled to sell the land at under cost to Euroamerican farmers. Still, other allotments suitable for farming were either entirely devoid of water or else had water rights withdrawn, leaving Indian owners with no means to grow crops or livestock (Gillihan and Shaffer 1995:12). The effects of such demoralizing, unjust, and discriminatory actions worked to dissolve any remaining ambitions had by many of those individuals attempting to adapt.

Gillihan and Shaffer (1921:82, 83) conclude that Indians of Northeastern

California were living a hand to mouth existence in houses not fit for living in, upon land that was useless and without water; that they lacked worthy education; were victim to numerous diseases for which absolutely no care was received; and that they were receiving no advice, assistance or encouragement in their personal and business dealings with the outside world. It was recommended that to improve and alleviate the desperate conditions encountered in 1921, the duties of Indian agents be modified to allow greater time toward aiding, instructing, and protecting Natives in their personal and business affairs; that women field workers be appointed to offer social and practical advice in home economics, cleanliness and personal hygiene; that persons appointed to help the

Indians be trained, experienced, interested in their work, and compensated appropriately; that arrangements be made so that useless land could be exchanged for land of value not at risk of being stolen or surrendered; that Indians receive assistance in building habitable homes; appropriate access to hospitals and care by physicians be accessible, and that federal, state, and county governments cooperate to achieve such results.

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Macgregor Report

In a 1936 survey of the Pit River Indians designed to assess problems born of the failed Dawes Allotment Act and subsequent 1934 Reorganization Act, Gordon

Macgregor, Assistant anthropologist with the Sacramento Office, BIA, provided the following statement:

The great preponderance of full-blooded Indians in this population casts a different shade on the Indian problem of this area of California and must be borne in mind in formulating any program for improvement of these people. Being more Indian in blood means they are more Indian in attitude, temperament and conservatism. They are largely free from the processes of assimilation and understanding of White ways, which have naturally come to Indians in other parts of the state where white men have been members of their families. [Macgregor 1936:3]

Nonetheless, by 1936 dissolution of traditional social order had resulted in the collapse of an integrated Native society. Ceremonies that had traditionally brought bands and families together were increasingly abandoned by ensuing generations. The automobile had become the popular mode of transportation, affording the occasional distant visit to relatives during a time when recreation and social life was otherwise declining throughout most indigenous communities (Macgregor 1936:14, 15). Mission and day schools provided Pit River children with a Western education, in some cases replacing communal teachings of old. The Western education system provided a platform from which indigenous children could learn to better understand and adjust to the integration of Native and Western ways, yet success was minimal owing social inequalities resulting from over 80 years of disenfranchisement and demoralization

(Macgregor 1936:14, 15). Alcohol consumption also greatly impacted the economic, social, and recreational lives of the Pit Rivers.

101

Macgregor (1936:19) relates the processes of Native economy in the early

20th century to that of the old tradition, whereby seasonal laboring on local ranches provided instant reward in a short season of work, providing means to survive the winter.

However, as increasing labor competition on ranches led to less stability in the workforce many individuals were left with insufficient means to make ends meet. Of 476 Native peoples polled in the Pit River region, only 22 held permanent jobs; 132 individuals earned part-time wages performing various labor jobs to supplement annual incomes, including: wood chopping, fruit picking, raising poultry, cattle and horses, cultivating hay, and subsistence gardening. Additional income was made up by federal and state relief in the form of cash and groceries (Macgregor 1936:20, 21).

Of 60 Pit River families still living on allotments in 1936, roughly one third attempted to farm their land, from which yields were largely used to supplement personal subsistence needs (Macgregor 1936:21). Land sales and lease payments from trust and fee patent allotments were also found to provide some income, as many allottees were anxious to sell their lands in exchange for cash profit. In Dixie Valley and its vicinity, 20 of the 47 Indian allotments granted there had been forfeited or sold by 1936 (see

Appendix B).

Working with the Atsugewi in the summer of 1931, Susan Park (1986:ix) reported great poverty among the people of Dixie Valley, noting many had already relocated to the nearby town of Cassel for work opportunities, there being none in Dixie

Valley. Of the six settlements Macgregor surveyed for his report in 1938, Dixie Valley proved the most desperate and dying.

102

This group of people, the last survivors of one of the largest and the most vigorous bands of the Pit River people, are undoubtedly the most tragic and poverty stricken of all the communities. They are the most isolated group, living in the Dixie Valley about twenty-five to thirty miles from the main highway and only reached by a very difficult and rough road. There are only eight families left, all living on their allotments, raising a few head of cattle and working on the one local ranch in the summer. This ranch provides employment for two Indians the year round, but one of these comes from Big Valley. The other men are too old for work or have proven too unreliable. One half-blood whose mother belonged to the Dixie band, has succeeded in running 20-40 head of cattle on his allotment, and raising enough hay to feed them in winter. Three households receive county relief and are entitled under the new ruling to receive old age pensions.

The community numbers 25 in all. Five couples have small children, which is the nucleus which may continue to live in the valley. They are all so closely related that they will probably marry outside, and, if they are like the more energetic members of their band, will settle in other communities. The number of this group will shortly be so few, and as the difficulties of living in this valley cannot be lessened it would seem wiser not to establish any project here which will encourage the young people to remain. With relatives in Big Valley a change there would not be difficult. [Macgregor 1936:29]

In the two decades following the above passage, Macgregor's foresight was proven correct; all 47 Indian allotments that had been granted in and around Dixie Valley between 1907 and 1932 were sold by 1957 (Table 2 and Figure 4). By all indication, most

Apwaruke residents there had relocated prior to those final years before sale. The sole exceptions to this were the estates of Arthur and Peter Barnes (father and son), who successfully acquired and developed Indian homestead and general homestead allotments, rather than Indian trust land through the Dawes Act. The Barnes retained ownership and at least minimal residence in the valley into the early 1960s (see Chapter

VII).

103

Table 2. Apwaruke residing in Dixie Valley after 1900

Source Year of Survey Apwaruke living in Dixie Valley

C.E. Kelsey (1907) 1905-1906 59 persons/15 families

Gillihan and Shaffer (1921) 1921 44 persons/12 families

MacGregor (1936) 1936 25 persons/8 families

Garth (1953) 1938-1939 4 families

Figure 4. Acres of Dawes Indian Allotment Land in Dixie Valley by Year (1907-1957).

104

The Hasey Johnson Estate: Sus 229 (The Fast Preserve)

This section describes the history of the Johnson family of Dixie Valley. The

Johnson family is featured because Hasey Johnson, described herein, was allotted the parcel of interest (Sus 229) which would later become the Fast Preserve, noted elsewhere throughout this thesis. The Johnson estates are used as a case study representative of those issues occurring throughout Dixie Valley and the Pit River region.

Federal Census records indicate Andrew "Andy" Johnson as a Dixie Valley

Indian, born circa 1855. Johnson's birthplace and early residence are unknown, as his first mention in written record occurs within the 1880 federal census survey. At that time,

Johnson, 25 years of age, resided in Big Valley roughly 20 miles northeast of Dixie

Valley (United States Census sheet 114C:1880). Living with Johnson was his first wife

Sarah (20 years of age), his one-year-old daughter (presumably Hasey Johnson), his mother, father, uncle, brother, and two sisters. The 1880 census does not include

Johnson's first name, however, both he and his wife's estimated ages are consistent with later documents concerning Mr. Johnson; further, no other male Johnsons of Big Valley or Dixie Valley of the estimated birth year 1855 have been identified. Andrew and Sarah had two additional children: Luthie (Lottie) born in 1883 and Edward (Ed) born in 1892

(Susanville 929: Box 141, 1932 Letter to BIA).

Andrew and Sarah's daughter Hasey is first officially referenced by name in a land request by Andrew for his named "child Hasey" dated April 13, 1894 (Susanville

229: Box 91). The allotted parcel became Sus 229 (known today as the Fast Preserve). As

Hasey was not mentioned on the 1900 federal Census record as part of the Andrew

105

Johnson household it is expected she had by this time, aged 21 years, moved from her parents' residence to work or live elsewhere. Whether or not this residence was on the Sus

229 allotment remains unknown.

It should be noted that the 1900 federal Census Bureau information at once supports and contradicts certain Johnson family demographic data recorded elsewhere. I have chosen to allow certain ambiguities and inconsistencies present in this record, as it is clear the data collected was considered unsatisfactory and difficult to obtain from the

Johnsons and other Dixie Valley Indian families. This is evident from the incomplete

1900 census report upon which the documenting agent wrote: "(Dixie Indians) Owing to the ignorance of these Indians it is impossible to answer these questions." See Figure 5.

The census agent's message is symbolic of the challenges Indigenous and

Euroamerican individuals encountered during the allotment era. It at once illustrates an expression of racism and power by the agent, countered by resistance by the Apwaruke.

A majority of Dixie Valley Apwaruke remained illiterate and out-of-touch with the

United States political system throughout the allotment era, and would continue to harvest ill feelings toward federal agents, including census data collectors, for decades to follow (Gillihan and Shaffer 1921:42).

The exact year of either Andrew or Hasey's death is unclear and conflicts with documents found in either individual's archival record. It is generally expected that Hasey

Johnson died in 1905 at the age of 26 years, followed by her father Andrew's death in

1906 at the age of 50 or 51 years (Susanville 929: Box 141, 1932 Letter to BIA;

Susanville 929: Box 141, 1913 Petition for Inherited Indian Land Sale). See Table 3

Johnson family vital stats).

Figure 5. 1900 Census for Dixie Valley Apwaruke (including the Johnson family). Agent's note (superimposed diagonally across the right half of the sheet) reads: "(Dixie Indians) Owing to the ignorance of these Indians it is impossible to answer these questions" (United States Census: 1900). 106

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Table 3. Vital Statistics for the Johnson Family, Dixie Valley

Name Relation Birth Death Andrew Johnson Head of family; father; 1855 1906* husband. Sarah Johnson First wife of Andrew; 1860 1922 mother of Hasey, Luthie, Ed. Hasey Johnson Daughter of Andrew and 1879 1905* Sarah Luthie (Rosie) Johnson Daughter of Andrew and 1883 ca. 1942 (alias Lottie Phillips) Sarah

Ed Johnson Son of Andrew and Sarah. 1892 1925

Adna Johnson Second wife of Andrew; Unknown Deceased prior half-sister of Sarah. to 1906 *Sus 929 records (the Andrew Johnson estate) indicate Andrew died one year prior to Hasey Johnson, whereas Sus 229 records (the Hasey Johnson estate) indicate the opposite. The dates herein follow those records included in the Sus 229 file, however, the contradiction remains unresolved.

Sus 229 was first requested for Hasey Johnson by her father, Andrew, on

April 13, 1894 (Susanville 229: Box 91). The allotment was approved by the Secretary of the Interior and March 2, 1897, and officially granted as an Indian Allotment Trust Patent on October 2, 1907 (General Land Office Records N.d.e). The 1907 patent allotted Hasey only 120 acres of land, a total that would be amended to include 40 additional acres

(totaling the 160 acres) twenty-five years later in the year 1932. As the patent post-dates

Hasey's death it is probable that the Indian land acquisition had been in process for some years prior to this time, only to be officially posted in 1907 along with the majority of other Indian Allotments granted in the Dixie Valley region.

Upon her death, Hasey's estate was passed to her parents, Andy and Sarah

Johnson. Upon Andy's death the following year, Andy's half share of the Hasey Johnson

108 estate was divided into three equal shares for Sarah, and Andy's two surviving children

(siblings of Hasey). There are conflicting reports of the order in which Andy and Hasey died. In a letter from the Commissioner of Indian Affairs (Susanville 229: Box 91) dated

February 3, 1932, John H. Anderson, examiner of inheritance for the Sacramento Indian agency, states that Sarah, Ed, and Luthie Johnson made testimonies that Hasey died one year following her father Andrew's death. These testimonies occurred in 1925 and 1927, respectively. Elsewhere, Sus 229 (Susanville 229: Box 91) consistently show Andy and

Sarah receiving equal shares (50/50) of Hasey's estate, indicating Andy Johnson was alive at the time of Hasey's death. This contradiction will remain unresolved pending additional, more definitive record.

By 1908, the Hasey Johnson allotment was owned by Sarah Johnson at 4/6 shares, and by Ed and Luthie Johnson at 1/6 shares each (Susanville 229: Box 91, 1941

Letter to Indian Agency). It can be deduced from these land transactions that Hasey, then

26 years of age, was single with no children or heirs beside her parents and siblings at the time of her death. This does not eliminate the possibility Hasey was married or had children at the time of her death, but only that federal agents were not aware of as much.

This latter point is not beyond reason, as Kelsey (1907:ii) estimates 400 individuals failed enumeration during his 1900-1907 survey of California Indians.

There is no indication Hasey Johnson ever personally utilized her allotment.

As mentioned, judging by the distance (2 miles) of the allotment from Dixie Valley where the Johnson family resided it is unlikely the land was occupied as a primary residence during the allotment era. Further, as the SUS 229 official land patent was not

109 issued until after Hasey's death it becomes ever less likely she personally utilized the allotment (as its legal owner).

Since 1907, Hasey Johnson's 160 acre allotment has been landlocked by federally owned lands; Modoc Forest Reserve from 1904-1908, and Modoc National

Forest from 1908 to present (Roberts 1980:119). Records indicate the land was leased for grazing by heirs of Sus 229 from at least 1917 until its sale in 1953. See Table 4 for a detailed account of Sus 229 land transactions.

Table 4. Land and Lease Transactions for Sus 229, the Hasey Johnson Allotment; 1907- 2011. For full records see Susanville 229: Box 91.

Year(s) Action 1894 Allotment Sus 229 is requested for Hasey Johnson by her father, Andrew Johnson. 1897 Sus 229 approved by the Secretary of the Interior. 1907 Sus 229, 120 acres, is officially patented, in trust, to Hasey Johnson. 1907-1917 Lease Information Unknown. 1918-1924 Leased to Jim Snell for $0.15 per acre per year.

1928 Lease value appraised at $16.00 per year; property value at $5.00 per acre ($800.00 total). 1932 Sus 229 is amended to include 40 additional acres, totaling 160 acres. 1929-1934 Lessee unknown, but likely leased to C.W. Clark during this time. 1935-1942 Leased to C. W. Clarke Co. at $20.00 per year. 1941 Request for easement by C.W. Clarke Co. to build Hayden Hill-Dixie Valley fence across Sus 229. 1943-1953 Leased to T. E. Connolly at $24.00 per year. 1949 The 11 heirs of Sus 229 petition for the sale of the allotment. 1950 Property value appraised at $1046.00. 1952 Richard Harold Fast bids $1,100.00 on the Sus 229 allotment. 1953 Sus 229 is sold for $1,100.00 to Richard Harold Fast and Virginia Mary Ann Fast. 2011 Sus 229 is sold to The Archaeological Conservancy.

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Fractionation and the Hasey Johnson Allotment

As described above, the Hasey Johnson allotment was not officially granted until 1907, two years after her death. The allotment would have become immediately available for lease by her heirs from the date of its acquisition. Although records are lacking for the years of 1907 through 1917, it can be assumed that Dixie Valley Ranch, then owned by C. W. Clarke Co. (Weigand 1996:118) was utilizing the property for grazing purposes, as Clarke and subsequent owners of the ranch would do from 1892

(and possibly earlier) to the present day. It is clear from records relating to the Andy

Johnson allotment (Sus 929) also inherited by Sarah, Luthie, and Ed, that land lease agreements on such allotments were little tracked by agents and lessees during this period.

Records for Sus 229 reveal that heirs to the property became increasingly unaware of lease contract particulars through time. On August 24, 1925, Sarah Johnson inquired to the Land Holdings office in Redding, California that she had received no money for her shares in either Sus 229 or Sus 290 (a second parcel for which she was an heir). On April 17, 1941, subsequent to Sarah, Ed, and Luthie's deaths, Martha Thomas

Eades, heir to Ed Johnson, inquired about her 1/2 share in Ed's 1/6 share of Sus 229 (i.e., a 1/12 share in Sus 229). In reply from the Sacramento Indian Agency, Mrs. Eades was made aware her share in the allotment had accumulated $20.31, and was available for pick up (Susanville 229: Box 91).

These accounts relay a story of land ownership in Dixie Valley that echoes similar situations across the United States. The story goes that rocky, hilly, un-irrigated

111 lands were allotted to individual Natives only after choice lands had been homesteaded by Euroamerican settlers. Sus 229 was peripherally located relative to the Johnson family's place of residence and work, and although it was applied for in 1893, wasn't granted officially for another 14 years, by which time its allottee, Hasey Johnson, was deceased. The land was then leased—for no regular compensation—for the ensuing 46 years, until in 1949, the nine surviving heirs of the allotment petitioned to sell the land.

Their reasons for sale stated: "This unoccupied and undeveloped property is not an economic unit. It should be sold, the proceeds to be used for our support and improvement of living conditions" (Susanville 229: Box 91, 1949 Petition for the sale of inherited Indian land). The federal land holding agent declared in reply the following year: "The tract is an isolated public domain allotment not used by the owners or heirs and, because of fractionated ownership, no beneficial use of the land can be made. This procedure is in full accord with our withdrawal program" (Susanville 229: Box 91, 1950

Report of Area Director).

Fractionation occurs as Indian land held in trust for a deceased individual(s) is fractionated, or divided, into shares to be passed to subsequent heirs of a given allotment.

In many cases, allotments are fractionated over several decades until multiple owners

(perhaps hundreds) hold legal ownership of the land. As a 160 acre parcel is hardly capable of supporting such a population, it is more common that such lands are leased or sold. Profits from the land are likewise divided in accordance to each heir's entitled share.

Banner (2005:285) discusses a case in which an Indian allotment in South Dakota had by the second half of the 20th Century accumulated 439 owners whose shares in the property appropriated each less that a nickel a year in lease payout.

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The Hasey Johnson allotment falls into this same framework. From the period of 1907 to 1953, Sus 229 was owned by a total of 16 individuals, including Hasey

Johnson (see Figure 6) (Susanville 229: Box 91). Of those 16 individuals, 9 were still

Figure 6. The fractionation of Sus 229 (at time of sale in 1953).

living at the time the Sus 229 was sold in 1953. Each heir received fractionated shares of the estate according to their relation to subsequent generations of heirs. Documents indicate that no heirs resided in Dixie Valley by the late 1940s (and probably earlier).

Rather, heirs were living in communities across Northeastern California, including Adin,

Fall River Mills, Burney, and Susanville. The land had become obsolete and essentially

113 valueless so that by the time Sus 229 was sold in 1953 individuals were awarded shares ranging from 18/432 to 99/432 of the total sale profit. Mrs. Diana Buckskin Briceno, for example, was paid out $32.03 for her 32/432 share of Sus 229, less $222.53 put toward the funeral of Bill McClelland (former heir to the Hasey Johnson estate), whose funeral costs were automatically deducted from Briceno's award.

The Andrew Johnson Estate: Sus 929

Sometime before Andrew Johnson's death he was divorced from Sarah

Johnson and remarried Sarah's half-sister Adna. Adna would predecease Andrew, leaving partial inheritance of her estate to him. At the time of Andrews's death in 1906 or 1907, his 80 acre estate was passed to Sarah (his first wife and now widow), Ed and Luthie, each receiving equal 1/3 shares of ownership (Susanville 929: Box 141, 1941 Letter to

Indian Agency).

In April of 1913 Sarah, Ed and Luthie began petitioning for the right to sell the Andrew Johnson Allotment. On the petition was stated: "We cannot farm this land, and we wish to buy some land which can be farmed" (Susanville 929: Box 141). The allotment was surveyed that same month, described as: "2cd Grade Grazing land. With no water or springs; rough and hilly, with scattering juniper." The appraising official noted the land as best adapted for grazing, at a value of $320.00.

The Johnson family had the allotment reappraised the following year. On

April 7, 1914, its revised value was $510.00, owing to the value of timber ignored in the previous appraisal. The revised certificate of appraisement read: “50 acres lying on side hill; 30 acres on generally level tract at top of side hill; No water or springs; 2cd grade

114 grazing land, cannot be cultivated; 20,000 feet medium grade yellow pine. Land of no value except for grazing after removal of timber.”

No sale immediately came of these initial petitions for sale. In 1928, the aging

Johnson family would again attempt sale, petitioning on January 25, 1928 "We cannot use the land and want to sell it and use the money for something beneficial." By that year,

Ed Johnson, who had previously been employed as a cowboy at the Dixie Valley ranch while owned by the W. C. Clarke Co. (Weigand 1996:120), was living with his wife and child in Big Valley. Living situations for Luthie and Sarah Johnson during this time are unknown. On May 31, 1928, the Andrew Johnson allotment (Sus 929) was transferred to fee patent and sold to the Red River Lumber Company.

Discussion

Today, the scene has changed. A comparatively sparse white population has occupied the same area [Pit River region]. Where once roots were dug, hay is cut for the wintering of cattle; where salmon were speared stand great power dams; where stood earth houses are fields of grain. The Indian has been pushed back to the undesirable rocky edges of the valleys or works as a laborer for the white rancher. But the children still speak the old language, the "doctor" or shaman is consulted rather than a physician, Christianity is unknown and undesired. The sense of belonging to or owning a particular site persists; they are Hat Creeks or Big Valley Indians first and then Pit Rivers. [Kniffen 1928:318]

Euroamerican colonizers immigrated into Pit River country in search of land and resources from which livelihoods could be established. Settlers were quickly confronted with perceived indigenous obstacles which made the region uninviting to incoming populations. The United States military established Fort Crook in 1857 to protect both settlers and Indians as the two populations were forced to adjust to one another's presence across the landscape. The ensuing three decades witnessed the

115 extermination, removal, and assimilation of Pit River peoples as foreign concepts of land ownership, capitalism, and economic regimes forever altered cultural and natural landscapes of their homeland.

The Dawes Allotment Act of 1887 signified one way by which the colonizing population could dismantle the land base of Native people and integrate surviving populations into "civilization" (Bauer 2009:132). In the Dixie Valley region, like countless others across the nation, Native peoples that had until 1887 lived on far-off reservations, within local communities as laborers, or as renegades residing outside of the direct sphere of Euroamerican civilization, were at once afforded an opportunity to own land. Native land ownership came with a disclaimer effectively securing the federal government's control over the land for a period of 25 years, during which time the owner was expected to shed his or her former ways of traditional life in exchange for Western capitalist conceptions of civilization.

The effects of the Allotment policy proved devastating for Native Americans across the nation. Native peoples were rarely allowed to select their own land and this was only done after land of economic value had been absorbed by Euroamerican settlers.

The process by which allotments were obtained was tedious, time consuming, and confusing, especially for Native peoples such as those in Dixie Valley who could hardly, if at all, speak, write, or read in English. Insufficient funding for education, training and tools prohibited successful farming and other attempts at self-sufficiency, locking Native peoples into conditions of poverty whereby housing and health generally deteriorated.

Federal agents charged with the responsibility to oversee and address such issues were of

116 little assistance in easing the harsh realities of the broken federal policy (Gillihan and

Shaffer 1921).

Native peoples could not rely on federal aid or assistance, and by design of the

1887 bill did not have a legal voice to address such issues to Congress. The Dawes Act failed to achieve even the most basic of its intended goals (Carlson 1981:172, 173), minus those intentionally or otherwise structured to strip Native peoples of land for the sake of non-Native interests. By 1934, the Act was officially repealed when Congress acknowledged that what had been intended as the solution to the Indian problem had instead become the Indian problem itself (McDonnell 1991:25).

Dixie Valley was, through the eyes of the federal government, an ideal setting for Indian Allotment being it contained numerous public domain lands in locations that were fairly flat and void of valuable mineral or timber reserves. As this chapter has revealed, Indian allotment lands granted in Dixie Valley were subject to all those adverse conditions the Dawes Act became known for nationwide. The Johnson allotments provide a lens through which some of these experiences had by Native Americans in Northeastern

California can be viewed.

Following permanent settlement by the Euroamericans throughout the Dixie

Valley and the broader Pit River region, acculturation and assimilation ever-increasingly enveloped the Native cultures. From ethnographers working in the 1920s and 1930s, it is evident that at least some degree of traditional Apwaruke settlement and social structure was still practiced well after Euroamerican settlement had occurred and the Dawes Act had been implemented. Even as indigenous labor was becoming increasingly important to the expanding ranch operations in the valley, Apwaruke members continued to utilize

117 traditional housing structures, seasonal villages, and settlement patterns, maintaining those life ways in the face of ongoing assimilation.

By the 1930s, most Native Americans previously living in and around Dixie

Valley were relocating to surrounding towns, leasing remaining parcels to large scale grazing operations and converting most Indian trust patents into fee patents to be sold.

Sales already diminished by the poor quality of lands owned were further devalued as a result of fractionation. The 1950s saw the last of the Indian trust patents sold or otherwise absorbed into federal, state, or private hands. By 1957, none of 47 Indian trust allotments

(a total of 6,338.7 acres) granted under the Dawes Act in the Dixie Valley vicinity between 1907 and 1924 remained, all having been sold or transferred into non-Native ownership.

The allotment era and its residues had effectively resulted in the total elimination of Indian land ownership in a region that had for countless generations been occupied by the Apwaruke people. Many of the relatives and descendants of the same families that owned allotments in the valley can still be found throughout communities in the nearby towns, and in many cases these individuals are still experiencing poverty. The story of the failed land allotment act as seen in Dixie Valley is but a microcosm of what

Natives throughout the state and across the nation experienced. In California today, less than 200 of the approximately 2,580 Indian trust allotments made to the public domain remain (Middleton 2008:125).

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Chapter Summary

This chapter has demonstrated the effects the Dawes Allotment Act of 1887 had on Native American peoples in Dixie Valley, Northeastern California. Though the

Act was intended to help American Indians by providing a means toward self-sufficiency, land ownership, and civilization, failed implementation doomed its chances at success.

Policies of forced assimilation and discrimination were built into federal law as foreign ideals of Western culture and capitalism became lost on Native peoples struggling to maintain their own traditional cultures. Case studies like that told of the Johnson family of Dixie Valley provide a reminder of the United States' deplorable history of relations with California Natives, whereby dispossession through allotment was realized.

CHAPTER VII

THE APWARUKE AND DIXIE VALLEY

TODAY

Present throughout each section of this research has been a theme of

Apwaruke peoples being silenced by the dominant society; from federal and state law and the agents expected to implement it, to the scientists who produce the histories that influence Native identity. By revealing this theme it becomes clear that archaeologists are in a position to either perpetuate or reverse that trend. This chapter compliments the broader historical context study by providing a contemporary Apwaruke perspective on

Dixie Valley and archaeological research conducted there, and by encouraging collaborative relationships moving forward. By acknowledging those disparities revealed in the foregoing historical overview, this discussion opens the door to inclusiveness that has historically been lacking.

In preparing research and project goals for this thesis I was fortunate to have met with and received input from Ms. Anna Barnes, an Apwaruke band counsel representative and one of the last Apwaruke to have lived in Dixie Valley. This chapter begins with a brief overview of Ms. Barnes’s relationship (past and present) to Dixie

Valley, discussion on Apwaruke land use in the valley today, and a summary of key resource management concerns expressed to me during our discussions. The latter sections of this chapter include an introspective look into why archaeologists do what

119 120 they do, and for whom (especially as relevant to the Dixie Valley region) followed by a discussion on collaborative archaeology and future research in the Dixie Valley region.

Ms. Anna Barnes and Dixie Valley

Ms. Anna Barnes was born in Fort Bidwell, Northeastern California in 1938, mid-way through a cattle drive to the small settlement from her family’s home in Dixie

Valley. Anna, her mother (Hat Creek Atsuge), father (Dixie Valley Apwaruke), and siblings resided in Dixie Valley upon a Homestead Patent land allotment originally owned and maintained by her paternal grandfather, Arthur Barnes, and great grandfather,

Peter Barnes. She lived in Dixie Valley until the age of ten (1948 or 1949), when her family relocated to Hat Creek to live on her mother’s trust allotment (Ms. Barnes maintains ownership and continues to reside part-time on the Hat Creek allotment today).

In 1890, Peter Barnes was allotted 160.00 acres of land under the Indian

Homestead Act of 1875 (amended in 1884), which allowed Native peoples severed of tribal relations to homestead public lands and acquire full ownership of the land after a specified number of years (usually 25) held in trust. He is the first Apwaruke indicated to have owned land in Dixie Valley, and only person to have attained his land through the

Indian Homestead Act (most Apwaruke received land under the Dawes Allotment Act of

1887).

In 1924, Peter’s son Arthur Barnes (Anna’s grandfather) became the only

Apwaruke to acquire land (320.00 acres) under the Homestead Act of 1862. Together,

Arthur and Peter’s 480 acres represent the only land in Dixie Valley owned by Apwaruke

121 peoples that was not granted in trust by the government as a product of the 1887 Dawes

Allotment Act.

Ms. Barnes still holds fond memories of her childhood in Dixie Valley. From riding the fences throughout the valley and surrounding foothills on horseback, ringing the old Dixie ranch dinner bell and watching the cowboys pour in from the surrounding foothills, to attending rodeos in Dixie and Little Valley. Ms. Barnes vividly remembers the layout of her grandfather’s homestead with its rock fence that kept his stock (over 100 head of cattle, a team of horses, chickens, and some sheep) contained.

Nestled at the base of Indian Mountain at the east end of the valley, the

Barnes’ land parcels could produce enough hay to mostly sustain their stock, making the family largely self-sufficient and free of government aide. As clear from archival data from the 1920s through the 1950s for Dixie Valley, few resident Dixie Valley Apwaruke successfully developed their land as the Barnes’ managed to do. In acknowledging her family’s strong economic standing relative to others in the valley, she describes her grandfather’s house as being “like a mansion next to the shacks the other Indians lived in” and recalls how her grandfather would occasionally even share food with other

Apwaruke in need.

Ms. Barnes remembers having positive relations with Dixie Valley ranch owner T. E. Connelly (who purchased the ranch from C.W. Clarke and Company in

1942) and ranch caretakers Hak and Lil Lambert. She holds no harsh feelings or poor regard toward the non-Indian ranchers, despite the fact that the Dixie ranch owners would by 1957 have absorbed nearly all the Indian allotments that once dotted the valley floor.

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The Barnes’ family maintained ownership of their ranch into the 1960s

(roughly half a decade after the last Dawes Indian allotment parcel was sold from Indian ownership) until its sale to T.E. Connelly. Upon that sale, Dixie Valley was no longer in any part owned by Apwaruke peoples.

Apwaruke Access To and Use of Dixie Valley Today

Today, the Dixie Valley region is divided into private, National Forest, and

Bureau of Land Management lands. Those federal lands are primarily used and leased for cattle grazing by the Dixie Valley ranch. Rangeland improvements such as stock reservoirs, irrigation ditches, tunnels, bridges, and barbed wire fences can be found throughout the landscape. The surrounding foothills are also frequented by federal land managers and members of the public for recreational and other activities (hunting, fishing, hiking, camping, woodcutting, etc.).

For the Apwaruke, the land remains a vital part of their cultural heritage.

Reminders of their deep history in the region are still evident in the many ancient settlements, with their great scatters of flaked stone, groundstone, rock and earth housing structures, cemeteries, and fishing, hunting, and root gathering locations. They are evident in the place names still used today that attest to past Apwaruke presence at those locations (e.g., Johnson Spring, Bob’s Creek, Indian Mountain, Indian Creek), and in the miles of rock fences and corrals built by Apwaruke laborers during early ranch operations. Even more, are any of the thousands of acres of past Indian allotment lands, now mostly invisible and forgotten on the landscape.

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For Anna, childhood memories of the last generation of Apwaruke to inhabit the valley provide a strong link to her immediate past. By the time she was born, most

Apwaruke had become ranchers and farmers, slowly but surely phasing out the old ways of living with each passing year. When asked if she felt her relationship to the land is similar to that of other peoples in the area currently and in the past, she responded without hesitation: “It is nothing like it was in the past. Everything has changed.”

The truth in her statement rings true in multiple respects. Both the cultural and physical landscape of the valley has been forever altered. Gone are the days when Dixie

Valley hosted the largest permanent settlement and primary stronghold of the Apwaruke people. Gone are the days when Indian labor was the primary brawns behind early

Euroamerican efforts to develop the valley’s marshy interior for agricultural pursuits, or when those same individuals were later granted their own lands to develop, relinquishing past cultural practices in exchange for those of the colonizing population.

Since her departure from Dixie Valley nearly 65 years ago, Anna has paid infrequent visits to the region. Her children and grandchildren hear stories from her childhood and spend an occasional afternoon picnicking in the area but otherwise rarely visit the valley. When asked how she feels about her current access to the Dixie Valley region today, and if she is restricted from any cultural, traditional, recreational, or other practices or activities due to current land ownership concerns, Anna replied that she has never been denied access to the valley by any of its private owners. On the contrary, T.E.

Connelly (Dixie Valley ranch owner) and the Lamberts (Dixie Valley ranch managers) granted her permission to visit the ranch, and specifically her grandfather’s property, at any time. Even following the regrettable sale of the estate by a close relative, Anna was

124 assured by the ranch managers that all the stock and supplies once owned by her family would be cared for.

The Dixie Valley ranch (T.E. Connelly estate) was sold by heirs and underwent several changes of management after 1977. The current ranch managers have watched over the ranch since the late 1980s, and continue to run operations there even through its most recent sale in 2014. Those managers have given Anna permission to visit the ranch just so long as she calls ahead so that gates can be opened and everyone is aware of her presence.

Tribal Concerns with Resource Management

I asked Ms. Barnes if she is happy with how the Dixie Valley landscape is occupied and used today, or if she would like to see it put to use or preserved in other ways? In her response, she expressed greatest concern toward cultural resource preservation efforts that have occurred there over the past several decades. She expressed her feeling that archaeological practices are invasive and inflict more harm on cultural resources than if they were simply left alone. Her perspective on the matter is perhaps best illustrated by the comment: “cows don’t hurt archaeological sites, the people do.”

The foregoing statement is a direct reference to an experience Ms. Barnes had in the Dixie Valley region while accompanying Forest Service archaeologists as they worked to “preserve” a sensitive cultural site.

We were at a site that they said was being destroyed by cattle. There were many artifacts there, including an old Indian basket sitting at the base of a tree. [Sometime later] I was sitting in the truck and saw a bag with something in it on the floor board, but didn’t touch it since it wasn’t mine. Later, the archaeologist told me there were artifacts from that site in the bag. Not only that, but they took that old basket, too. It’s now over in Berkeley at a museum there. And get this, later they built a

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fence around the site to protect it from cows! Those things had been there all that time, cows walking over them all those years, and they were always fine. It wasn’t until those people came in and took them that anything was damaged!” [Anna Barnes, 2015, personal communication]

Ms. Barnes continually expressed to me the need to leave sites be. She feels archaeologists have no business probing the ground, picking things up, and moving them around. The artifacts were left where they sit today by people in the past and should remain there, undisturbed. Archaeologists move soil and artifacts and collect cultural remains for research; not only do these practices disturb the resource, they also put individuals who do not know, or even understand the power behind some of those objects, at risk. For example, many people were buried with certain stones, beads or other objects, and their graves and sacred objects are still present on the landscape today. Some of these object were imbued with great power, and sometimes poison, by their Apwaruke owners, and remain very powerful today. The Apwaruke still recognize these powers, and feel situations where these items are disturbed could be dangerous to those individuals handling them.

After explaining that my research efforts on the Fast Preserve have been limited to surface survey and recordation, and that no artifacts were collected or soils disturbed, I asked Ms. Barnes if this type of research is acceptable. She shrugged semi- approvingly and replied: “people can go out there and do what they have to, take pictures and write about what they see, but they should not pick anything up or take anything with them.” While her response did not overtly forbid my work on the Preserve, it was clear her preference is that resources be left alone, free of unnecessary attention that could lead to disturbance or destruction.

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Collaborative Archaeology and Future Research in the Dixie Valley Region

The summary of my personal communication with Ms. Barnes reflects the views of but one individual as transcribed by another, and should not be mistaken as representing the views of all Pit Rivers or neighboring tribes. Nonetheless, it is expected her views do not stray far from the general group consensus. For instance, in a 1982 report prepared for the Alturas, Bureau of Land Management intended to identify and best manage sites important to contemporary upriver Pit River bands (including the

Atwamsini, Hammawi, Astariwawi, Kosealekte, and Hewise), researchers also found that informants from those bands overwhelmingly wished sites to be left alone entirely rather than studied (Roybal-Evans and Associates 1982:10, 11). The authors state: “several respondents believed strongly that no village site should be disturbed, even if it were unknown and long unused, because exploration could disturb the spirits of the people who had lived there” (Roybal-Evans and Associates 1982:20).

The following section seeks to assess the pros and cons involved in honoring no- disturbance requests by contemporary Pit River peoples. In doing so, I have provided a brief discussion of why and how archaeology is practiced in the United States, illuminating the challenges archaeologists are faced with in balancing laws and regulations, scientific research, and Native American interests. Relating these issues back to the Dixie Valley region (and especially the Fast Preserve), the section concludes with suggestions for successful collaboration and how future research might most appropriately be pursued.

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Compliance Archaeology, Academic Archaeology, and No-Disturbance Requests

Roybal-Evans and Associates (1982:20) acknowledge the conflict that is created by no-disturbance policies. Archaeologists are by the nature of their discipline interested in culturally sensitive material remains left behind by past cultures, and mitigation is often necessary to minimize land use-related affects to those resources. A point of contention existing between archaeologists and Native communities is born of two fundamentally opposing value systems, and hence, ideas of what the protection or preservation of a resource entails. Whereas the desires cultural resources not be disturbed, archaeologists may be driven by law or by intellectual curiosity to

“disturb” those resources. The question arises: what purpose do subsurface excavation, artifact collection, and destructive analyses have in archaeological practice today, and whose interests do such practices actually serve? The answer begins with a basic acknowledgment of how, and by whom, professional archaeological research is performed, and those factors that determine which cultural resources are managed and how.

Two primary types of archaeological research and practice exist in the United

States today: compliance (or contract) and academic. As per the former, public and private sector compliance archaeologists are employed to enforce federal, state, and local laws aimed at protecting and managing archaeological resources, and have come to represent the majority of archaeologists working in the United States today. A wealth of archaeological protection measures, mitigation, and data accumulation has occurred over the past half-century as a product of compliance archaeology.

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There are a number of laws currently in place which legally obligate administers of public lands (those lands that fall under the jurisdiction of public regulation) to protect and preserve historic resources contained therein (e.g., The

Antiquities Act of 1906; The National Historic Preservation Act of 1966; The American

Indian Religious Freedom Act of 1978; The Archaeological Resources Protection Act of

1979; Native American Graves Protection and Repatriation Act of 1990). The primary objective of these laws is to assure the protection and preservation of the nation’s heritage over which the government has stake. Conversely, privately owned lands are excluded from legal protection until any part of that land becomes subject to public funding, permitting, or projects adversely impacting the environment. Excluded from federal or state jurisdiction, the type and extent (if any) of resource preservation implemented on private lands is at the discretion of the landowner.

Academic archaeologists are those professionals working with or for academic and/or grant-funded research institutions. Academic archaeology may or may not be related to compliance issues, and generally employs fewer professional archaeologists than does the compliance sector. Academic research is generally oriented more toward scientific investigation than management (Black and Jolly 2003:5).

In either practice it is important archaeologists recognize that cultural resources hold any combination of cultural, spiritual, religious, and scientific value, and that definitions of preservation and protection are inherently relative to the philosophical and/or ideological value system of a particular individual (Teeman 2008:627, 628). In reference to the views of Ms. Anna Barnes, the spiritual, and thereby intangible preservation, of an object or place may require it be left undisturbed regardless of

129 environmental or other exposures that could physically alter the resource. Conversely, scientific preservation of that same object or place may require the tangible integrity of the resource remain intact so as physical scientific analysis can be conducted. Hence, the removal of a projectile point from the landscape for scientific analysis affirms that object’s scientific value while simultaneously diminishing its sacred or spiritual value in the process of its being disrupted and contaminated by unwelcomed investigators.

Reconciling differences in the way “preservation” is defined, and for whom and how archaeological resources are protected or studied is a significant responsibility of archaeologists today. Management decisions can prove complex and multifaceted, making it seem impossible at times to appease all parties involved. With these considerations in mind, the purpose and necessity of subsurface excavation, artifact collection, and destructive analyses is put under analysis.

Sub-surface excavation is generally conducted for two purposes: to “salvage” resources from project-related destruction (e.g., the construction of a road, trench, parking lot, or water reservoir), and for scientific inquiry (e.g., developing regional culture chronologies). Artifact collection is also used as a way to protect artifacts from the threat of project-related destruction, as well as from unauthorized collection (i.e., looting) – both of which can be damaging not only to the cultural and religious integrity of a resource, but also to its potential to yield scientific data. Destructive analyses of archaeological materials are almost exclusively conducted for scientific purposes, with the exception of instances when such analyses (e.g., obsidian hydration, stable isotope analysis, radiocarbon dating) are necessary to guide legal management decisions according to a resource’s unique scientific or cultural qualities.

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Hence, excavation, artifact collection, and destructive analyses are practiced by both compliance and academic archaeologists. It can be concluded that when a project is purely science-driven, whereby resources are not under threat of unavoidable destruction, destructive analyses cannot be justified as being in the best interests of a tribe

(for as long as that tribe is against such practices). A more challenging scenario occurs when the physical integrity of a resource is threatened by a project or land use activity

(e.g., road construction, timber harvesting, cattle grazing), bringing about conflicting ideological perspectives of what type of “preservation” should take precedence. In such cases, successfully mitigating adverse effects to a resource relies fully on communication through collaboration.

A Call for Collaboration

Collaboration is critical if resource managers are to successfully balance the complex and often conflicting desires, interpretations, and perspectives of multiple interests. As Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson (2008:12) explain, true collaboration creates trust, community, and ethical outcomes. Anything less results in resistance and the formation of competing interest groups, decreasing the chance of ever reaching an ideal outcome where all parties feel represented in the decision making process. Teeman

(2008:630) explains there is a critical difference between collaboration, whereby tribal members are included in research design and/or project planning, and consultation, which too often entails the minimum level of communication required by law to approve an action.

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The resistance to archaeological practices encountered in my discussions with

Ms. Barnes and in Roybal-Evans and Associates’ (1982) research with Pit River informants can largely be attributed to a lack of trust resulting from decades-long conflicts between tribal and federal governments in the region, and from poor communication and efforts toward collaboration on the part of compliance archaeologists. To counter this, communication concerning potential land use projects or archaeological research must be presented to Pit River tribal groups as early as possible.

Trust is a central and critical attribute of successful communication and will remain unattainable if tribal members feel they are being denied information, project details, or involvement in the decision making process. Variation in interests, perspectives, and values exist among Pit River tribal members collectively and individually. The preferred path to successful collaboration might vary from person to person or band to band. To accommodate for this, communication should be made with multiple peoples, when possible, and always on a case-by-case basis.

Second, and in regards to compliance archaeological work in the region, compromise should be expected. Even successful collaboration does not spell free-range archaeological research. Rather, no-disturbance requests by the tribe should be expected to persist, even when projects posing adverse effects to cultural resources are anticipated.

In the event a resource cannot be protected from a project effect, tribal input should be used to determine proper mitigation measures, with scientific interests being served according to the discretion of the tribe.

Concerning academic archaeological interests, it can be expected that destructive analyses of any sort (including artifact collection) on the Fast Preserve or

132 elsewhere in Dixie Valley would create friction between land owners and Apwaruke representatives, is otherwise unnecessary, and should be avoided unless authorized by the

Apwaruke community.

Incorporating indigenous theoretical concepts into archaeological practice is the only way the discipline can move beyond colonially-rooted conflicts of value

(Sheehan and Lilley 2008:106). A collaborative archaeological approach is not only beneficial to archaeology as a science, but it acknowledges that the Dixie Valley

Apwaruke did not go extinct with the final sale of Dixie Valley Indian lands in the early

1960s. For a people who have long been restricted from producing their own legally recognized identities, collaboration signifies one way in which archaeologists, as stewards of the past and as liaisons between the same Native groups and colonial institutions that first came into contact over 150 years ago, can offer a voice and power to the Apwaruke of today.

Chapter Summary

In this chapter, I provided a brief description of Apwaruke Ms. Anna Barnes, her relationship to Dixie Valley, and an overview of key resource management concerns expressed to me during our conversations. I also outlined the reasons archaeological work is performed and discussed the importance of a collaborative archaeology approach.

The cultural importance of Dixie Valley is not limited to its present or future use by Apwaruke peoples. In fact, contemporary Apwaruke infrequently visit the area for personal or traditional purposes. Rather, the greatest tribal concern is that the material and non-material relics of past indigenous settlements be left alone, free from the probing

133 of data-driven archaeologists. The future of successful collaboration between resource managers and the Apwaruke band depends on stronger efforts on the part of archaeologists to include Apwaruke concerns in research and preservation processes. In so doing, archaeologists can avoid further silencing the Apwaruke people.

CHAPTER VIII

DISCUSSION AND CONCLUSIONS

This chapter consists of a culminating discussion of the primary research perspectives that I have undertaken in this thesis. The first section offers a summary and discussion of how Euroamerican colonization dispossessed the Apwaruke of land and put into action events that would forever alter traditional indigenous life ways and cultural practices. In section two, I summarize and offer concluding comments on the context for early ethnographic research among the Atsugewi. Section three consists of a discussion of the implications my research has for archaeological practice. This includes comments on how to appropriately use the ethnographic record in archaeological research, followed by an application of Atsugewi ethnographies with archaeological data to reveal the presence of an indigenous village site on the Fast Preserve located in Dixie Valley. In this section, I further suggest potential research questions specific to the Dixie Valley that might be pursued in the future. This chapter concludes with a general summary of this thesis.

Dispossession: A Colonial Legacy

A major theme of this thesis has centered on the legal dispossession of Indian lands in Dixie Valley as a result of the 1987 Dawes Allotment Act. Using coloniality of power theory, it is possible to contextualize the circumstances in which 6,339 acres of

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Indian land in the Dixie Valley region were “legally” transferred out of Indian ownership by the 1960s, roughly fifty years after being distributed. How did such grand scale loss occur, and why has this narrative hereto now gone untold? Were all 47 Indian land allotments legally forfeited or do unlawful transactions lay at the root of the situation?

It is tragic, yet true, that the dispossession of Apwaruke lands in Dixie Valley was “legal” (insofar as this research can discern). Beginning with first settlement in the region, Euroamerican populations spread across the Pit River landscape with a sense of entitlement and determination. Fertile valleys, timbered forests, plentiful game, and range land for stock were abound and open for the taking just as soon as the indigenous population was either eliminated or brought under control of the incoming colonial regime.

As occurred throughout much of the Americas following the arrival of

European colonists, the belief that Western civilization and the European “race” was superior to that of Native Americans was enough to justify the wholesale colonization of those Native peoples, their land, and their cultures. From first contact in California,

Native peoples showing resistance were eliminated or removed to an established reservation; those who cooperated became subject to indentured service or lives as second-class citizens. Native laborers supplied the means of production, while their homelands supplied the land base for an expanding international capitalist system.

Oppression and discrimination were justified on the premise of skin color and concepts of social evolution. The elimination of Native culture was not only justified, but desired, in order to maximize land, labor, and production in the newly colonized state.

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The Dawes Allotment Act aimed to dismantle Native culture and any remaining land base, incorporating both into the capitalist system as farmers and agricultural land. In this sense, the story of dispossession in Dixie Valley is not unique.

As a geographical unit, Dixie Valley is a convenient space for which a discussion of the colonial takeover of Native lands across the nation can be illustrated. Backed by federal law, the Dawes Act legally sanctioned the division and redistribution of Indian lands in the Dixie Valley region. The subsequent release of those lands over the ensuing half century was also done so under the legal auspices of the Act.

It is evident from state and federal reports completed in the Pit River region

(including Dixie Valley) in 1921 and 1938 that key components of the Dawes Act intended to facilitate the successful transition from Native life ways into independent agriculturalists were ignored by official agents in the north state (Gillihan and Shaffer

1921; Macgregor 1938). Pit River peoples were denied appropriate tools, training, health services, and government relief. Further, lands awarded through the Act were largely insufficient for long-term agricultural pursuits due to late dispersals after non-Indian settlers had absorbed much of the preferred public lands available for allotment.

All said, Indian allotments in Dixie Valley were “legally” relinquished to private, non-Indian ownership. It is reasonable to suspect that Native owners were not in all cases fully aware of their rights and responsibilities as landowners, and it is evident from archival and census records that several Dixie Valley Apwaruke families that desired to sell their land wished to do so because they had no money, and were not benefitting from the land directly nor from lease payments which were chronically ignored by agents and local graziers.

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Hence, the question of how the Dixie Valley Apwaruke were dispossessed is not a simple matter of legality. The colonial context in which the Dawes Act was implemented disadvantaged Native peoples from successfully transitioning to agriculturalists as the Act intended. Not so much a breach of federal law as much as sheer neglect and discrimination, federal agents wielding the power to improve social and economic conditions for Natives in the Pit River region failed utterly, whether by choice or by design.

A Summary and Context for Early Research Among the Atsugewi

It has been seen (Chapter three) that several early ethnographic works on the

Atsugewi were carried out by student researchers with no formal experience in the field, dispatched by U.C. Berkeley professor A. L. Kroeber to “cut their teeth” on “a simple group” (Park 1986; Golomshtok 1922). Of the nine ethnographers who officially treated the Atsugewi, three were trained anthropologists (Dixon, Kroeber, and Gifford). The actual duration of their fieldwork with the Atsugewi was limited, and their number of informants few. Of five Berkeley students dispatched to study the group, three spent significantly more time with the Atsugewi than did their professors, but each with some level of disclaim warranted.

Golomshtok (1922), a Russian exchange graduate student of anthropology at

Berkeley, had no prior ethnographic training, was not fully fluent in English (a dual- language barrier: English and Atsugewi), and never formally completed or published his work – the reason for which is unclear. Park (1986[1931-1933]) reluctantly studied the

Atsugewi after being told she was not qualified to study but a “simple group.” Her

138 research was not published or even formally completed until over 50 years later, a break that admittedly subtracted from the memory of her early experiences.

Garth (fieldwork in 1938,1939; published in 1953) produced the single most comprehensive analysis of the Atsugewi, spending two months and three weeks in the field and interviewing 13 informants. Quality and scholarship is evident in his many treatments of Atsugewi, yet his doctoral committee at Berkeley (Kroeber and Lowie) did not feel his work with the Atsugewi was sufficient to earn him a doctoral degree from the

University.

Voegelin worked only minimally with the Atsugewi in the 1940s, collecting culture element data primarily by way of a yes/no questionnaire scheme. Kniffen and

Merriam - neither formally trained as anthropologists - produced high quality accounts of the Achomawi and Atsugewi, dealing specifically with the latter group. Their work is far from comprehensive, dealing primarily with cultural geography and linguistics, and less with cultural particulars as do the more anthropological studies (e.g.,. Garth [1953];

Golomshtok [1922]).

The earliest of these formal visits to Atsugewi country (Kroeber in 1900;

Dixon in 1900) occurred 30 years after Euroamerican settlers took residence in Dixie

Valley, or roughly 20 years subsequent the removal of Atsugewi peoples to the Round

Valley Reservation. The most substantial ethnographic research occurred another two to three decades later, throughout the 1920s and 1930s, well into and after the Allotment era. In all cases, research was undertaken by affluent, Anglo-American ethnographers

(predominantly affiliated with U.C. Berkeley) in the early half of the 20th Century.

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As expressed by informants and by living conditions described by scholars, travelers, locals, and by state and federal agents, Atsugewi culture was heavily impacted in the years following initial contact. Family groups were dismembered, relocated, and forced to abandon cultural practices that served as life-lines to traditional Atsugewi identity and practices. Few facets (if any) of traditional Atsugewi life remained unchanged by Western influence come the end of the Allotment era. By the time

Berkeley anthropologists reached the Atsugewi, elders were targeted for their value as windows into the prehistoric past; windows that were moreover treated as untainted, static descriptions of a pristine culture group.

The realities of the great cultural transformations which took place following

Euroamerican contact do not delegitimize the oral histories given by informants or the ethnographic texts produced from them, but demand one is conscious that ethnographic analogs cannot simply be projected into the prehistoric past. Perhaps even more importantly, the implications salvage ethnographies had on Native identity in decades to come serves as a valuable reminder that the histories anthropologists and archaeologists produce effect the lives of their subjects in often unanticipated and unintended ways.

These lessons are addressed more fully in the following section, adding relevance to such considerations in archaeological applications today.

Implications for Archaeology

Using the Ethnographic Record

Addressing a crowded hall of archaeologists at the 2015 Society for California

Archaeology meetings in Redding, California, an elder of the Wintun tribe (western

140 neighbors to the Pit River) pleaded with archaeologists to recognize that “What you do has an impact on our lives! Your jobs are important, they affect us!” Later in the same conference, a second Native representative addressed the room stating, “You don’t realize the power you have when you put pen to paper. You make permanent record of who we are and who we are not.” An awareness of these concerns is a first-step in developing more appropriate ways of using the written record. But how exactly does one go about “correcting” these issues, or at least avoiding the misuse of these works?

It is unknown to what extent Kroeber, his colleagues, and his students at U.C.

Berkeley were aware of the influence their research would have on the archaeological discipline and the subjects it studies. One wonders, would early ethnographers have changed their methods or focus had they been aware of the long-term implications of their work? If so, (hypothetically) what would or could they have done differently? This is the very question I ask when using those ethnographic works today. As U.C. Berkeley anthropologists were the authoritative voice that defined California indigenous history in the early to mid-20th century, it is the anthropologists and archaeologists working today that now carry that responsibility. It is in retrospect that I am aware and have the responsibility to use past ethnographic records in a more informed manner, and to assure that the narratives I produce as an archaeologist are as accurate as possible. The ethnographic record is and will remain an invaluable resource for understanding past indigenous life ways. Nonetheless, it has limitations.

As addressed previously, one of the most blatant abuses of the ethnographic record occurs when practitioners employ the direct-historical approach. Despite any number of “prehistoric backgrounds” that are produced for academic and professional

141 reports which rely heavily on ethnographic data, the ethnographic record does not depict pre-contact (prehistoric) indigenous life ways. Rather, as this thesis demonstrates by revealing the range of contact and historic-era forces of indigenous culture change, the ethnographic record depicts an account of traditional culture traits described by Native peoples and transcribed by University scholars’ decades to over a century after traditional life ways were intact. This is not to imply that there is not accuracy in the accounts those informants gave or in the interpretations and observations ethnographers made, but to argue that archaeologists and practitioners, as consumers of that data, are limited in their ability to differentiate fact from fiction in those works. Assuring the use of the ethnographic record is limited to the time period directly related to when those data were recorded (i.e., the ethnographic period) is a critical rule when utilizing ethnographic texts.

Lastly, a collaborative archaeological approach has been identified as a way to provide fairness and multivocality to how heritage is defined, managed, and interpreted by establishing new types of interpretive frameworks and ways of translating the past

(Colwell-Chanthaphonh and Ferguson 2008:7, 14). This approach allows for alternative interpretations of, and additions to, the ethnographic record to be realized, and assures descendant communities have a voice in narratives that affect their cultural heritage and identity. In acknowledging these limitations, and by acknowledging the biases and silences entrenched within early 20th Century ethnographies, a more informed historical context relevant to all stakeholders in our shared past can be produced.

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Ethnographic and Archaeological Evidence for Prehistoric Life Ways on the Fast Preserve

This section combines ethnographic and archaeological data pertaining specifically to the Fast Preserve in Dixie Valley, providing a late prehistoric to protohistoric context for traditional Apwaruke life ways. In addition to ethnographic data already presented in the previous section, Garth’s 1953 Atsugewi Ethnography is of particular focus being as the sole mention of resources located on the Fast Preserve is found in that publication. Archaeological interpretations are derived from pedestrian survey and site recording efforts performed on the Fast Preserve by this author in 2013 and 2014. Data from that survey has been presented elsewhere (Thomas 2015) and is summarized herein to provide a more complete understanding of traditional Dixie Valley

Apwaruke life ways as approximated by ethnographers of the early 20th century.

Miutawiki: An Ethnographic Village at the Fast Preserve

Miutawiki (sunny-side slope) was the name of a settlement [in Dixie Valley]... Earth lodges were in use here forty or fifty years ago and part of one small lodge is still standing. Bob Rivers, the professed chief here, had only a small following. [Garth 1953:177]

As seen in the passage above, Garth documents an ethnographic village by the name of Miutawiki (Sunny-Side Slope) in Dixie Valley. Combining ethnographic and archaeological data, it has been determined that the Miutawiki settlement occupied the landscape that was in 1907 to become the Hasey Johnson allotment (Sus 229), or the Fast

Preserve (a complete discussion and evidence for this connection can be found in Thomas

[2015]). Deciphering the exact time frame in which Garth’s stated “40-50 years ago” indicates is difficult being as he fails to report the date from which that figure refers.

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Nonetheless, the exact year of reference is critical for understanding how late in time

Chief Bob River’s group resided at the location.

If taken absolutely from the time of Garth’s publication (1953), it would be presumed Miutawiki remained occupied into the 20th Century. However, it is more likely that Garth’s “40-50 years ago” refers to the time his field work was undertaken in the summers of 1938 and 1939, since there is no other record of additional field visits by

Garth subsequent to those years. If considered from the 1938-1939 visit, Garth’s reference to when Miutawiki had last been occupied would more likely fall sometime within the 1880s and 1890s, thus close in time to Andy Johnson’s initial (1893) request for the Sus 229 allotment (see Chapter VI).

An additional reference to Miutawiki was made by Garth’s Apwaruke informant Jerry Wilson, then aged 72, who thought the nearby settlements of Jutspukine and Braksitui may also have belonged to the Miutawiki settlement:

Jutspukine (where the water comes down) and Braksitui were two small house clusters, both on the south slope of Dixie Mountain-the former about three-quarters of a mile above the valley floor and the latter nearly due south, just above the valley floor, where a warm spring was located. JW thought that these settlements belonged to Miutawiki territory. [Garth 1953:177]

Preliminary Archaeological Findings at the Fast Preserve

During survey efforts on the Fast Preserve in 2013 and 2014, nine indigenous sites and one historic-era component were observed (Thomas 2015). Preliminary interpretations drawn from survey results concluded the settlement served as a seasonal

(early spring to early fall) habitation center(s), exploited during seasonal migrations from and throughout the Dixie Valley watershed. Projectile point types indicate a heavy

144 emphasis on a Terminal Period (600 B.P.-150+B.P.) occupation with potential for time depth dating back 1300 years or more. Two proto-historic artifacts and ethnographic mention of a standing structure in site TAC FAST 6 suggest the habitation center may have been utilized well into the historic-era (ca. 1900) (Garth 1953:177; Thomas 2014).

House depression and rock ring features throughout the Preserve are consistent with those described by ethnographers as summer enclosures of brush, juniper limbs, or rock, and may collectively be related through time as a larger network of village clusters.

Ethnographic data for the Dixie Valley region note seasonal roots, pinyon nuts, and a variety of other vegetal resources as having been important vegetal resources processed by the Apwaruke. Epos roots, in particular, are noted to have been especially abundant and important to the Apwaruke of Dixie Valley, and were commonly ground by handstone and millingstone and/or pounded by hopper mortar (Garth 1953:138). Ground and flaked stone tools and debitage present on the Fast Preserve indicate a combination of tool maintenance and manufacturing activities occurred, reflective of root, and to a lesser degree, seed processing, and hunting activities (Thomas 2015).

Evidence of semi-subterranean pit houses and carefully constructed rock ring habitation centers are consistent with that described by McGuire (2002:37) as a residential base from which task groups were dispatched into the surrounding landscape for various logistical forays. The extent to which all or some sites were simultaneously or continuously occupied through time is unknown and would require formal testing or traditional knowledge to discern.

Given the presence of two proto-historic artifacts and Terminal Period projectile points, the high level of integrity seen in habitation structures and midden on

145 site, and physical descriptions provided by Garth (1953:177), I suggest that the structure seen standing by Garth in 1938-1939 at the ethnographic village of Miutawiki was likely seen within the main habitation center observed during my survey efforts on the Fast

Preserve in 2014 (Thomas 2014). Garth does not distinguish whether that structure contained a rock ring foundation or if the structure was strictly a semi-subterranean bark house; therefore, further speculation on the exact location of the structure cannot be discerned.

Preliminary survey findings (Thomas 2015) strongly support the presence of an ethnographic-era settlement, including evidence for time-depth into pre-contact times at the Fast Preserve. Could this village have been continuously occupied by Apwaruke members from prehistory up to the time it would be allotted to the estate of Hasey

Johnson in 1907? That is, are the prehistoric, protohistoric, and historic components seen at the Fast Preserve necessarily independent of one another, or might each represent an unbroken chain of change in Apwaruke culture and land use during a period of contact and accelerated acculturation? In considering the historical context for Dixie Valley, it is seen that seemingly distinct and unrelated archaeological manifestations may in fact represent an Apwaruke transition into farmers and laborers as groups maintained traditional cultural practices well into the allotment era.

When asked about the village of Miutawiki, Ms. Barnes was not personally familiar with its name or location, but commented that she was familiar with each of

Garth’s primary informants (including Lucy Rivers, relative of Bob Rivers, the

“professed chief” at Miutawiki). It is notable that ethnographer Thomas Garth first visited

Dixie Valley the year Ms. Barnes was born (1938) and that she, as an infant, would have

146 been present during his tenure there. As mentioned in the previous chapter, Ms. Barnes’s primary concern with regards to the Miutawiki village is that archaeologists do not disturb it unnecessarily.

Future Research Potential in the Dixie Valley Region

In addition to the rich presence of pre-contact resources in Dixie Valley (such as those observed on The Fast Preserve), the region offers an excellent opportunity to explore the effects of culture contact on indigenous culture. As this historical context has shown, there are numerous lines of evidence from which culture change can be analyzed.

These include , ethnography, linguistics, native oral traditions, and archaeology. Kent Lightfoot (1995:211) explains that archaeology offers the primary database for considering change in prehistoric Native societies, as well as a means of inquiry for investigating the interaction of poorly documented ethnic workers in colonial and post-colonial pluralistic communities.

As an archaeological field technician hired to survey for cultural resources on

The Fast Preserve, I initially entered the field with a specific set of expectations. These expectations were derived from previous experience in the project area and from a preliminary report of findings on the research potential of the Preserve, produced by a reputable archaeologist in the region (White 2011). As so, my focus was on the rich prehistoric-era habitation remains that abound the landscape. From research herein, a new set of questions have been revealed that can provide insight into those periods directly proceeding first contact with Euroamerican populations (early 19th Century) through to

147 the end of the historic era (late 1950s). A brief outline of potential research questions is offered as follows.

1) Concerning early contact in the Dixie Valley region: Is there evidence of indigenous response to disease, technology, ideas, subsistence and settlement patterns following first contact in the region?

From historical and archival data, it is expected that disease and conflict inflicted by

Euroamericans would have been prevalent beginning sometime in the early 1830s. Soon after, the settling of nearby centers such as Alturas, Big Valley, Susanville, and Fall River

Mills forced Pit River peoples to modify traditional practices, severely restricting their mobility. By 1849, there was an influx of material goods passing within the direct vicinity (roughly three miles) of Dixie Valley by way of the Lassen Emigrant Trail.

Several locations within the Dixie region may yield valuable insight into those questions of indigenous response to Euroamerican contact and settlement, particularly on landscapes within or adjacent to past Indian allotments, or even on non-Indian homesteads where Apwaruke men, women, and children labored or frequented daily and/or seasonally (such as the Reavis ranch house from 1890, still standing at the main ranch headquarters today).

2) Social conflict in the Pit River uplands is documented in ethnographic and ethnohistoric accounts, including conflicts between Pit River groups with the Klamath,

Modoc, and Northern Paiute groups lasting into the early historic period, and with

Euroamerican groups beginning at contact and continuing into the 1870s (Read and

Gaines 1944:830-831; Fairfield 1916:180; Garth 1953:180; Kniffen 1928:317; Voegelin

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1974:153-158). These interactions resulted in foreign items being available to the local indigenous population.

It is also evident that contact between Euroamerican populations with neighboring tribes had resulted in the acquisition of items such as the gun and horse. These acquisitions better equipped tribes, such as the Modoc and Klamath to the north of Pit

River country, to raid and conduct war against the Pit River. Archaeological observations in the broader Northeast California region support such occurrences and also suggest that the threat of raid may have influenced the size, layout, and location of villages, with emphasis on sites that were more marginal, concealed and defendable (Waechter 2002;

McGuire 2002). Sites containing Terminal Period and historic-era rock rings within the

Dixie Valley region may offer valuable insight into the use of such structures and overall settlement shifts in response to Euroamerican influence (both directly and indirectly) on the region.

3) How late in time were traditional camps utilized throughout the Dixie Valley region? According to Garth (1953:177), Miutawiki was visited at least into the 1890s. By that point in time, Weigand (1996:119) reports that many Apwaruke were living outside of the Valley proper during winter months, and migrating into Dixie during summer months to labor for the Dixie Valley ranch. Where did the non-resident Apwaruke laborers reside during the winter? Did they actually leave the region following the work season, or did some stay within the Dixie Valley vicinity, wintering in traditional camps away from the valley floor? Could this be the case with Miutawiki and similar village sites nearby?

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4) During summer months it is noted that the Reavis ranch house bore dual dining rooms, segregating Native and settler dining, and that Native laborers either slept in a bunk house designated for Indian laborers, or else camped nearby the homestead at the

Dixie Springs (Weigand 1996:119). Archaeological investigations could figure large in adding support to these early reports of the otherwise poorly documented Native workers and their roles (particularly gender-based) in early ranch operations in Dixie Valley.

5) At what rate did Apwaruke peoples adopt the European world system of the colonizing population? Is there material evidence for resistance to such change? Were either material or ideological changes adopted first, or did the breakdown of traditional lifeways occur evenly across the cultural plane? Images by Golomshtok (1922; in Garth

1978:237) and Garth (1953:205,211; taken in 1938 or 1939) each show traditional Native housing in Dixie Valley being utilized in conjunction with Euroamerican housing styles.

In most, if not all cases, these structures were built upon Indian allotments. Was this the norm or the exception? How early was the adoption of Western housing adopted, and likewise, how late did the use of traditional housing persist?

Census data and especially the survey of Indian conditions reported by Gillihan and

Shaffer (1921) and Macgregor (1936), as well as oral record from Ms. Barnes, paint a picture of widespread poverty and poor living conditions among resident Dixie Valley

Apwaruke throughout the allotment era and into the late 1950s. Archaeological investigations could be used to look for evidence of social, economic, and health stress, while interviews with extant family members and descendant groups of these allotments

(e.g., Ms. Barnes) can provide further and more personal contextual information on these inquiries.

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6) Particularly relevant to this study would be an investigation into the 47 Indian allotments (or a sample thereof) issued in Dixie Valley to determine which allotments were actually utilized, as well as the nature and extent of that use. It is expected, based on census and archival data discussed in Chapter six, that some allotments were used for grazing and farmed, some were leased-out but never personally utilized, some were never utilized at all, and others were heavily utilized as primary residences and centers of agricultural development. Further, some allotments are expected to have housed entire families in communal fashion despite multiple residents/family members owning personal parcels nearby (such as in the case of the Johnson family discussed in chapter six). Together, these research questions can be used to infer the effectiveness of the

Dawes Act’s intended purpose of breaking up indigenous communal landholdings and traditional practices. As discussed herein, twentieth century ethnographers rarely acknowledged these issues and are little help in discerning culture change that was currently taking place during the allotment era.

Archaeology can act as the primary means of inquiry for exploring each of these themes. As posited throughout this thesis, the historical context for indigenous culture change in Dixie Valley is critical when considering the nature and causation of such changes. It is also essential that any such research considerations are not only approved by, but ideally undertaken with contemporary tribal members.

Perhaps the most important consideration born of this historical context for indigenous culture change in Dixie Valley has come not from the assembly of historical facts, but from the acknowledgment that Apwaruke culture has under gone great changes, but continues to exist. It is in the interest of archaeology, both ethically and scientifically,

151 to include contemporary Apwaruke in the process of interpreting histories that define their connection, past, present, and future, to the Dixie Valley landscape.

Conclusion

In exploring the historical context for indigenous culture change in Dixie

Valley, I have pursued three primary research perspectives throughout this thesis. First, I looked at the context in which early 20th Century Atsugewi ethnographies were produced, and by whom. I then revealed the conditions by which Apwaruke peoples were dispossessed of their land base and traditional practices by way of the 1887 Dawes

Allotment Act. Lastly, I have drawn from discussions I had with Dixie Valley Apwaruke member Ms. Anna Barnes, to identify cultural resource management concerns that her band currently holds. From this, I further argued the importance of collaborating with

Apwaruke peoples during future archaeological work within the Dixie Valley region. As a case study, the causes for and character of indigenous cultural changes observed in

Dixie Valley are but a microcosm of those experiences had by indigenous groups throughout California and the greater United States since Western colonization first occurred.

Postprocessually-rooted theoretical tools and approaches have been used to evaluate contact and historic-era forces of indigenous culture change and the ways the past is produced and perceived. By emphasizing the importance of collaborating with those groups affected by the research archaeologists conduct, this thesis serves as a platform from which more meaningful, inclusive, and informed archaeological research can be undertaken.

REFERENCES CITED

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APPENDIX A

Oral Interview Questions

 What is your relationship to the Dixie Valley region of Northeast CA?  How long have you been acquainted with this area?  What are your thoughts on the landscape in that region? Is it meaningful to you in cultural, traditional, religious, economic, and/or recreational ways?  Would you mind sharing some thoughts on your knowledge of past (prehistoric and historic) and present landuse of the region?  What is your interpretation of the archaeological resources of the area?  Do you feel your relationship to the land is similar to that of other peoples in the area presently and in the past?  How do you feel about your current access to the Dixie Valley region today?  Do you feel you are restricted from any cultural, traditional, recreational, or other practices or activities that you would otherwise have were it not for current property ownership concerns?  Are you happy with how the landscape is occupied and used today, or would you like to see it put to use (or preserved) in other ways?  Do you have any wishes, comments, advice, or concerns that you feel I should consider relating to my research for this project?

166

APPENDIX B

General Land Office Records: Dixie Valley Region (General Land Office Records: N.d.a; N.d.b; N.d.c; N.d.d; N.d.e; N.d.f; N.d.g; N.d.h; N.d.i)

Reference Accession #’s Name of Allottee Trust Patent Date of Fee Patent Date of Acres Sold To # Entry Entry 1 872774 MCCLELLAND, SALLIE 9/23/1907 7/17/1922 158.91 BLAZEY, CHARLES V 2 1131698 STOVER, WILL 9/23/1907 4/24/1951 158.74 CONNOLLY, THOMAS ERNEST 3 1132174 HARROW, CLAUDE 9/23/1907 5/31/1951 120.00 INDIAN HEAD LUMBER CO. (off map) 4 1016226 MCCLELLAND, JOE 10/2/1907 5/12/1928 160.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO. 5 1001072 MCCLELLAND, JOHN 10/2/1907 5/3/1927 160.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO. 6 MV-0658-148 JOHNSON, HATTIE 9/23/1907 5/9/1951 160.00 BARRINGTON, RICHARD E 1131967 7 MV-0664-242 MCCLELLAND, BILL 10/2/1907 8/26/1957 160.00 BUCKSKIN, CHARLES 1174363 8 941676 BUCKSKIN, ETHEL 7/21/1924 8/2/1950 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1129584 REAVIS ERNEST 9 MV-0671-214 HARROW, DAN 10/15/1907 10/21/1952 86.60 CONNELLY, THOMAS 1136698 ERNEST 10 MV-0658-151 MCCLELLAND, AGNES 9/23/1907 7/6/1950 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1129390 ERNEST 11 MV-0664-240 MCCLELLAND, LULA 10/2/1907 7/6/1950 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1129391 ERNEST 12 1129473 JIM, DANNY, 4/6/1920 7/20/1950 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 743460 NORMAN, FRANK ERNEST 13 1131953 PHILLIPS, LOTIE 1/11/1924 5/9/1951 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 928786 ERNEST 14 MV-0658-165 PHILLIPS, LILLIE 9/23/1907 5/9/1951 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1131968 ERNEST 15 1134492 LEMAR, KENNETH 8/9/1922 4/10/1952 40.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 874905 ERNEST 16 1132496 DANIEL, ALFRETTA 8/9/1922 7/9/1951 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 874906 LAMAR ERNEST 17 1129349 LAMAR, LYMAN G 8/9/1922 6/23/1950 160.00 Unknown 874902 LAMAR, LORETTA G 18 902155 LAMAR, LEONARD 4/6/1923 12/30/1952 160.00 Unknown 1137325 19 874903 LAMAR, LYLA 8/9/1922 6/23/1950 160.00 Unknown 1129351 20 1129350 LAMAR, LYMAN G 8/9/1922 6/23/1950 80.00 Unknown 874904 21 MV-0664-236 JOHNSON, SAM 10/2/1907 5/20/1930 166.43 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 103746 22 MV-0658-306 WHITEHORSE-JIM 9/23/1907 2/27/1928 160.00 SNELL, JAMES 1012975 23 MV-0664-241 JERRY, BELLE 10/2/1907 2/27/1928 120.00 SNELL, JAMES 1012976 24 MV-0658-152 JERRY, EMMA 9/23/1907 3/8/1928 80.00 SNELL, JAMES 1013293 25 MV-0664-237 JOHNSON, CAP 10/2/1907 7/18/1914 160.00 SNELL, JAMES 422764 26 MV-0664-239 MCCLELLAND, DICK 10/2/1907 7/18/1914 160.00 SNELL, JAMES 422765 27 MV-0671-213 HARROW, WILSON 10/15/1907 3/26/1925 130.95 SNELL, JAMES 956418 28 1129971 THOMAS, MARTHA 3/26/1921 9/13/1950 160.00 Unknown; acquired by Blm by 800879 8/29/1968 29 MV-0658-303 WILSON, JERRY 9/23/1907 9/24/1915 80.00 SNELL, JAMES 491271 30 MV-0658-319 JOHNSON, ADNA 9/23/1907 3/26/1925 160.90 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 956419 31 MV-0664-238 JOHNSON, HASEY 10/2/1907 2/2/1953 120.00 FAST, RICHARD HAROLD, 1054572 4/12/1932 40.00 FAST, VIRGINIA MARY ANN 1137588 32 MV-0658-133 MULLEN, JACK 9/23/1907 7/6/1950 77.04 DIXON, AUBREY ERNEST, (off map) 1129394 DIXON, ROBERTA GERTRUDE 168 33 MV-0671-214 HARROW, DAN 10/15/1907 10/21/1952 40.00 CONNELLY, THOMAS 1136698 ERNEST 34 MV-0671-215 HARROW, LOUISE 10/15/1907 5/12/1928 160.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 1016227 35 MV-0658-134 HARROW, MIKE 9/23/1907 6/6/1928 80.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 1016796 36 MV-0664-286 PHILLIPS, CHARLEY 10/2/1907 6/4/1951 160.00 INDIAN HEAD LUMBER CO 1132199 37 MV-0658-214 JOHNSON, ANDY 9/23/1907 5/12/1928 80.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 1016228 38 MV-0664-266 JOHNSTON, ROSIE 10/2/1907 3/26/1925 160.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 956421 39 MV-0658-158 JOHNSTON, SARAH 9/23/1907 5/12/1928 160.00 RED RIVER LUMER CO 1016225 40 MV-0658-164 PHILLIPS, KATE 9/23/1907 10/16/1924 160.00 RED RIVER LUMBER CO 946331 41 MV-0664-289 MURDOCK, RHODA 10/2/1907 7/6/1950 160.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1129392 ERNEST

Reference Accession #’s Name of Allottee Trust Patent Date of Fee Patent Date of Acres Sold To # Entry Entry 42 MV-0658-237 JIM, WILLIAM 9/23/1907 5/9/1951 80.00 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1131950 ERNEST 43 MV-0658-305 REAVIS, OLLIE 9/23/1907 10/23/1952 160.0 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1136750 0 ERNEST 44 448398 REAVIS, DICK 12/11/1914 9/18/1953 160.0 CONNOLLY, THOMAS 1140819 0 ERNEST

45 MV-0658-152 EMMA, JERRY 9/23/1907 3/8/1928 79.20 SNELL, JAMES 1013293 46 MV-0664-241 JERRY, BELLE 10/2/1907 2/27/1928 39.93 SNELL, JAMES 1012976 47 MV-0658-218 MURDOCK, HARDY 9/23/1907 3/22/1949 160.0 Unknown; Acquired by BLM by 1125032 0 7/13/1968 Total acres of Indian Trust Allotment Land in Dixie Valley: 6338.7

Non-Dawes Allotment Indian Land in Dixie Valley: Reference Accession #’s Name of Allottee Trust Patent Date Fee Patent Date of Acres Sold To # of Entry Entry 48 052735 BARNES, PETER 2/4/1890 Unknown 160.00 Unknown; Acquired by BLM (Indian Homestead by 7/13/1968 Trust Patent)

49 872395 BARNES, ARTHUR N/A 7/13/1922 320.00 Unknown; Acquired by BLM (Homestead Patent) by 7/13/1968

50 1756 Unknown N/A 7/24/1893 160.00 Unknown (Indian Homestead Trust Patent)

General Land Office Records N.d.a Township 34N, Range 7 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=34|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=7| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.b Township 34N, Range 8 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=34|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=8| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.c Township 34N, Range 9 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=34|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=9| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.d Township 35N, Range 7 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=35|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=7| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.e Township 35N, Range 8 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=35|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=8| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.f Township 35N, Range 9 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=35|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=9| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.g Township 36 North, Range 7 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=36|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=7| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.h Township 36N, Range 8 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=36|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=8| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014. N.d.i Township 36N, Range 9 East. U.S. Department of the Interior, Bureau of Land Management General Land Office Records. http://www.glorecords.blm.gov/results/default.aspx?searchCriteria=type=map|st=CA|twp_nr=36|twp_dir=N|rng_nr=9| rng_dir=E|m=21, accessed March 20, 2014.

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